


Parasite

by UnravelMySoul



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blackmail, Bottom Tony Stark, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Bondage, Cock Cages, Cock Rings, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Drugged Sex, Drunk Sex, Dry Orgasm, Forced Bonding, Forced Orgasm, Gang Rape, Hurt Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Sex Positions, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panic Attacks, Poor Tony, Protective Avengers, Protective Natasha, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Steve, Protective Steve Rogers, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Stockholm Syndrome, Tony Angst, Tony Feels, Tony Has Issues, Tony Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Vibrators, Voyeurism, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2018-12-08 09:16:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11643519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnravelMySoul/pseuds/UnravelMySoul
Summary: After the Battle of New York, Tony finds himself still lost at war. When the rest of the Avengers move into his tower, he's pressured into taking his drinking issues to the club and ends up spiraling.This story takes place after the Chitari attack New York, but before Civil War.





	1. Anxiety's Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony isn't coping well after the Battle of New York, and no one seems to notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is yet another one of my many dark stories.
> 
> ***Beta Reader: MythologyStar***  
> Thank you for the help! Love you! xoxo

          Only a few weeks had past since Loki tried to destroy the city in what was now known as ‘the Battle of New York’.

          Tony had virtually died while plunging the nuke through the wormhole, and laid witness to even more powerful creatures. There were aliens bigger and greater in number than the one’s the Avengers faced on Earth. The very thought of it makes him uneasy and jumpy. He frequently catches himself watching the sky for signs of portals opening – any signs of a threat.

          Since then, it’s become unbearable to sleep, how can he? Sleep is impossible when all he envisions is the world being vaporized before his eyes. How can he sleep with thoughts of Pepper screaming and crying his name but being unable to save her? He’s never able to save anyone. And these are far worse than the nightmares he had after Afghanistan – not that those nightmares have stopped in light of recent events. The sad thing is, he craves a drink almost every time he wakes up shouting.

          Maybe the only positive side is having the hastily assembled Avengers live in the newly deemed “Avengers Tower”. Captain Rogers was hesitant at first, as any man from the 1940’s would be if they had to move into the world’s most cutting-edge tower. The two assassins, Clint and Natasha, hadn’t said a word, both acting as if having an entire floor to themselves was part of the norm. He was most excited about Bruce living there, Tony believed it would be a blast working on projects together and imagined picking each other’s brains.

          That was, of course, what Tony thought before they moved in. He had spent days hiring anterior and exterior designers as well as a clean up crew to remodel everyone’s floors and clear the mess. The commotion had him forgetting that he won’t have the tower to himself anymore. Not that he’s being childish and selfish or possessive, but now he has Bruce by his side making him feel guilty when he pulls an all-nighter in the lab because, and he quotes, “It isn’t good for your health, Tony.” He’s always disliked going to the doctor’s office, and now he has one continually on his back. The same goes for when Tony skips meals, Steve will lecture him on how he should be eating three meals a day instead of only eating sometimes. He’s just glad that Clint and Natasha tend to keep their judgments to themselves, for the most part. Clint has only noted once on Tony drinking while it was barely 10 a.m. Still, it made him feel shamefaced and out of control, so he stopped and didn’t drink for the rest of the day. He hopes Thor isn’t going to be an issue when he gets back from…wherever he’s from. Asgard, is it? Sure, Tony’s a billionaire, but it’s a struggle keeping the cupboards and fridge stocked with only Steve always eating like he’s starving. He’s stunned just watching the super-soldier, he can’t imagine how much the big, beefy god can eat.

          Today, well, today he thought was going to be great, that was until Steve commented on his drinking. He fell asleep in the workshop after Bruce had gone up to the communal floor two hours prior, and seeing as he hasn’t gotten any rest the night before or the night previous to that, he started drifting. A moment later and he was flying the nuke into space.

_He’s facing the Chitari army head-on; the enormous mothership sends fleet after fleet of aliens into New York. His suit is running out of air. He gasps like a fish out of water, muscles twitching, eyes fluttering. He glances behind him and watches the portal close. Tony watches the orange and yellow orb of fire expand into a breathtaking, hostile beauty. It creeps nearer and slowly burns him alive._

          He jolts awake covered in sweat and tears with Dum-E tapping against his shoulder. He wipes a trembling hand down his face and rubs Dum-E’s extended claw.

          “Sir?” JARVIS’ voice makes Tony start, but he instantly calms down before waving a hand in the air dismissively. There’s no way he can trust his own voice, not even around his vary creations. He knows he survived, he made it out in time…albeit he did die. So, maybe not right on time, but close enough.

          “I see…” Tony’s aware of how human-like his A.I. can be, but he also hates how exposed and vulnerable it makes him feel at times. “Well…I should inform you that Captain Rogers has called for you to join the rest of the team upstairs on the main floor.”  
          Tony groans, he feels nauseous and not at all up to hanging out with the other people he’ll be forced to speak with. But the bar is on that level and he needs to be plastered.

          Making his way up to the communal floor is hell on his sore and wound tight muscles. He doesn’t greet the others even though they stare at him upon entering, instead he makes a beeline straight to the bar in hopes that a drink will calm his anxieties. He tenses when he hears Steve sigh and approach him from behind.

          “Come on, Stark, it won’t be as memorable if you’re drunk all night. You’re constantly locked up in your workshop. Stop spending more time with your drinks than you do with us,” Steve says.

          Thing is, Steve didn’t say it in a scornful or patronizing voice, so why did it make him feel pathetic? It’s bad enough that Clint brought it up the other day, but he thought he could get away with having some scotch at 9 p.m.

          Apparently when everyone wants to have a ‘team-building night’ and watch movies, drinking is intolerable. However, they should be giving him more credit where it’s due. He hasn’t been drinking _nearly_ as much as he feels he needs to be. For instances, right now he wouldn’t mind being completely shitfaced, but the team wouldn’t approve, and he surrenders. He’s still jittery and on edge but he stops himself from pouring that one, oh so needed, drink. But then again, it makes Steve happy, and it’s the first time he’s ever seen the war hero smile at him with both shock and appreciation. He swallows thickly and sinks into the couch in a far corner. Bruce sits only a few feet from him, Wonder-Bread sitting next to him and Clint sprawled out on the floor with a pillow and blanket. He looks around and doesn’t see Natasha anywhere. He’s about to voice his question when a door opens and she waltz through carrying a bowl of popcorn. That’s when he notices the coffee table is covered in cans of soda, water bottles, snack sized chip bags, four pizza boxes (two of which are most likely for the super-soldier alone), and now the popcorn. Steve wasn’t kidding when he said, ‘movie night’.

          Without looking, Clint throws a water bottle at the light switch and everything is illuminated by the glow of the television screen. The darkness is eating at Tony, creeping into the edges of his vision. He needs a drink. Just one. At least one. A sip. A bottle. _Something_ to make him feel like he isn’t about to die.

          “Hey…uh, Tony, you alright?” Bruce’s whisper sounds distant to Tony, who’s on the verge of having a panic attack.

          “I need a drink,” Is all Tony can say as he jumps out of his seat and shakily walks to the bar. He grabs the hardest liquor he can find, something that’ll do the trick with only one glass. He’s about to pour a decent amount into a square glass when Steve complains from the couch.

          “You said you wouldn’t be drinking tonight,” Steve sounds disappointed, and that makes Tony flinch. That’s what his mom always used to say to Howard.

          A snort quickly follows Steve’s statement, “Steve, give it a rest. Tony can’t go a day without getting wrecked, just let him be,” Clint says.

          It wasn’t loud, but it wasn’t necessarily quiet either. Tony still heard it, his hand quaking as he regretfully splashes the liquid into his glass. He only needs one glass. Only one. He clutches the glass and bows his head as the shame of the name he’s made for himself crashes over him, but if it’s what everyone believes…he should feel fine accepting it, right?

          Maybe it’s because there are people living in his home telling him the things he usually thinks to himself. He places the bottle back where it was and returns to his seat, taking a small sip, he closes his eyes to relish the comfort it promises him. He needs to drink it slowly, it’s the only glass he’ll allow himself in the team’s presence.

          The movie feels long and endless, his mind is having a hard time focusing on what’s going on and he gives up trying. All he wants to do is be alone and curl up in bed. Maybe it’s only him, though, because everybody seems to be enjoying themselves in each other’s company. He supposes that he does feel better, half of the glass giving him a soft buzz when he still has half to go which should give him a decent mellowness.

          By the time the third movie is over, it’s 3 a.m. and everyone looks exhausted yet satisfied. Natasha hauls Clint to his feet, they say their goodnights, and she leads him to the elevator. Bruce also gets up lethargically and goes to the south elevator, giving the two men a meek wave before leaving. Tony stays in his corner, not having the energy to get up. Being the righteous man he is, Steve’s picking up trash and collecting it in the empty popcorn bowl.

          “Thanks for, um, not going overboard on the drinking tonight,” Steve said suddenly to the other man’s surprise, “I know how easy it is for you to throw caution to the wind and whatnot, but I…I really appreciate you having control for the sake of the team. Just wish you ate something, or talked.”

          Tony’s speechless, which is odd because he always seems to know what to say. Though, he isn’t incapable of coming up with anything because what the old man said was thought-provoking…it was _terrifying_. Tony doesn’t have control, he’s breaking right under their noses.

          However, Steve’s never sounded this pleased with, what looks like, his self-control and there’s no way he wants to screw it up. He and the captain have always had their differences, and as it would seem they’ve been off to a decent start since their arrival. Tony wants to keep up the good streak so badly, but he knows that once he goes to his own floor, he’s raiding his alcohol cabinet and drinking himself into a stupor. Steve helps him up and they enter the elevator together. They stop at Steve’s floor first and Tony says goodnight, a sentiment that sounds hollow in his ears.

          When his floor arrives, he rushes to his cabinet and pops off the cap to the first bottle he grabs. It burns his throat so good, it drowns his anxiety and stress, kills his thoughts and silences his fears. He clutches the neck of the bottle like a lifeline and feels the world around him go numb.

And so, he spirals.


	2. Night Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gives Tony some advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, big news you guys! I got to be an extra for my first feature film!! It's called "Men of Mercy" and I play a gang member (lol) and I got to be a stand-in for one of the leads. Check it out on IMDB or Facebook by looking up the tite "Men of Mercy"! I'm not on the credit list yet, but I will be. I'm also not sure when it comes out but keep on the look out for it ;)

           It's morning, Tony’s naked and sprawled haphazardly over messy sheets. He opens his eyes to a squint and groans as the light burns his sensitive eyes. It only takes a moment to realize that he didn’t have any nightmares last night and a small smile forms on his lips. It might’ve been a restless sleep, and he still feels exhausted, but he would rather have this then reliving the horror of what he sees in his nightmares. He takes a shower and makes himself look more like his usual self before going to the main floor. He’s surprised to only find Steve sitting at the table, holding a mug of coffee between his hands.

           Tony looks to the microwave and sees that it’s 2 p.m., meaning he’s slept through another breakfast and most likely lunch. Bruce is probably in the science lab and Clint and Natasha are most likely sparring. He pours himself a cup of coffee and takes a seat a chair away from Steve, he can sense a lecture coming on and he doesn’t want to sit too close in case he needs to make an exit.

           “I don’t know if I should be worried, angry, or not surprised,” Steve begins, not wasting time with the pleasantries.

           Tony tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, “Come again?”

           “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what you did, Stark,” Steve’s tone is both exasperated and annoyed, but Tony doesn’t know why. He thought they left on a good note last night. “Or maybe you really don’t know, seeming that you got unreasonably drunk last night.”

           “What?” Tony asks incredulously. _How does Steve know that?_ He was alone all night…at least he hopes he was.

           “You really don’t know, do you?” Steve’s gaze is tense and he’s finding it hard to retain eye-contact, “After we all head in for the night, you apparently drank your bodyweight in booze and invited several women over. I didn’t know that at the time, and I wouldn’t have disturbed you if I knew that you were… _busy_. But you lent me your tablet yesterday and I promised I’d return it the following day, and I tend to keep my promises.” Tony’s sure there’s a jab in there about his lack of control, and he deflates. “I went to your room and a woman who was…” Steve blushes and turns away, “…undressed answered the door. She said she’d give you the tablet when you guys were, um, done. Then this morning Clint and I had to walk them all out,” Steve shakes his head with a small unamused laugh, “How can you do that!? I get that you’re used to living alone, but there’s other people who are forced to live here now. And those women- how could you treat women like that? It’s as if you _spat_ on all of us! Next time you feel like acting out of line, go out and do it. Don’t drag us into cleaning up after you. You’re not a child, so stop acting like one.”

           Tony wants to bite back, wants to make Steve hurt just as badly as he does, but there’s no fault in what he said. Steve’s right in every way. And that makes it so much harder to argue. So, he lets the silence ring in his ears.

           He can feel his skin heat up with indignity and he brushes a thumb over the lip of the coffee mug. He hates being told things he already knows, things he dislikes about himself. If he’s not allowed to drink, how else is he going to cope? When he was being bullied at MIT he always had Rhodey to beat them up, and Pepper was always there when he was about to crash. Well now he’s crashing and not even Happy is here to cheer him up. He swallows thickly and nods his head in understanding. Steve must’ve taken it as a good sign and pats his shoulder as he passes him by, probably to go workout.

           Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist and none of that really matters. The nightmares are terrible, they’re tearing him apart, but having his team lose hope in him and look at him like he’s just some joke is making it all worse. They’re walking around like The Battle of New York wasn’t just a couple weeks ago. How are they coping? Why is he the only one that’s falling apart after every mission?

           He’s weak, pathetic, a joke, annoying, and a pain in the ass at his best. Why can’t his brain give him a rest and stop thinking!?

_Stark men are made of iron!_

           Howard’s yell rolls over his thoughts, making him recoil and clutch his mug tight. The gag is, Stark men have always been liars and jerks to get whatever the wanted.

           He discards his now cold coffee down the drain and goes to his personal workshop. He can’t speak to anyone right now, and that includes Bruce. Locking himself in, he tells JARVIS to blackout out the glass walls.

           “J, pull up last night’s footage of my activity,” Tony directs. He taps his fingers against the cold metal bench and leans forward on his elbows.

           JARVIS does as he’s told and presents a screen in front of Tony. He swipes at the footage of them watching movies and pauses when he sees himself walking into his bedroom. He cringes as he sees himself downing an entire bottle of vodka. It just gets sadder from there. Tony clenches the edge of the metal workbench and prays Steve was wrong.

           The next clip shows him sneaking a young group of college girls into the tower. He stops the clip and draws his hands over his face. He’s a mess. He’s losing it. He can’t drink anymore, not like that. Not when he’s supposed to be a part of “Earth’s mightiest heroes”. But he has no other way of managing. None of the other tower occupants can talk to him for more then a couple minutes before Tony says something regretful. He’s tired, afraid, paranoid, on edge. Everything he doesn’t want to be.

           He decides to listen to Steve and take his sorry ass out to a club and act like the sloppy socialite he’s famous for.

 

ººº

 

           It’s hard walking past the group and throwing a simple, “Going out. Don’t wait up,” over his shoulder like it wasn’t hurting him. He just wants to bypass them as quickly as possible, but he can still feel their burning disapproval like a knife in his side. He decides not to take his personal car instead opting for a taxi. There’s no way he’s holding back tonight.

           Arty, the bouncer, lets him without waiting in line. He said it’s been a while since the playboy’s been off his leash, but something about that makes Tony feel nauseous and filthy.

           The music is loud and the club dimly lit except for the dance floor that’s currently strobing with bright lights. He goes straight to the bar and orders several shots to take his mind off the guilt of betraying his team. In a dark corner of the room, a man glowers at Tony, training his eyes on his every movement. Luckily, Tony hasn’t eaten anything substantial in the last couple of days and by the seventh shot, he’s buzzing like crazy.

           He finds himself on the dance floor, covered in sweat with a woman happily grinding on him. He runs his fingers in her sweaty hair and presses there mouths together in a sloppy kiss and she moans deeply his mouth. Another woman joins in and he takes turns making out with both of them. He’s out of control, an animal that can’t be stopped. Time flies with his mind hazy and thoughts reckless. He grabs the mic from the DJ, everyone screaming and chanting his name, he announces that he’s buying the bar and that all drinks are on him. They hoot and holler and he finally understands why he does this, because they provide him the feeling of love and acceptance. They build him up, even when he’s making terrible choices or ruins things, they love him regardless.

           Much to his vexation, Steve’s faint voice tells him that this isn’t real love, just love for his fame and money. He pushes the mic into the DJ’s chest and stumbles off stage. As promised, he pays the bartender then slumps against one of the couches off to the side. Even when he’s supposed to be having the time of his life, guilt and shame always find a way to crush him. A tall man, lean yet muscular with dark brown hair and blue eyes walks towards Tony offering a glass. He takes it without any prodding, because why? He paid for the damn thing.

           “That was pretty ballsy buying the whole bar like that,” The man yells over the booming music. “Who are you, some rich guy?” He chuckles easily and sips at the dark liquid in his glass.

           For the first time that night, Tony is surprised and intrigued, “Um…yeah, I’m Tony Stark.” The man looks at him as if he’s joking and Tony gawks, “No, seriously. Ask anyone.”

           “I just thought that you never came out here anymore. Tony Stark is supposed to be this badass mature superhero now,” The man’s smile is inviting, luring.

           “I _am_ a badass superhero…” The man chuckles and takes another sip of his drink. Tony remembers the drink the man gave him and takes his first sip, “Are you not from here? Visiting a friend, came for a night out with the guys- that it? Still haven’t caught your name.” Tony has to remind himself that he isn’t flirting with a man, he’s just used to deploying the same tactic when he meets new people. He doesn’t swing that way, despite what most tabloids say about him.

           “Daniel Foreman,” The man, now proclaimed to be Daniel, scoots closer. Tony goes to take another sip and realizes that his glass is empty, this draws another chuckle from Daniel. The laugh sounds like an echo, the lights becoming brighter and painful.

           “Can’t handle your liquor, Tony?” There’s no longer that playful tone in the man’s voice, but in his inebriated state he can’t place what’s wrong. “Why don’t we get out of here?”

           Everything is slurring together, colors blurring and going out of focus. Hands pull him, now he’s moving and his stomach flips like he’ll vomit. The music becomes muffled and air is cooler, he takes a deep breath – which is difficult when his ribs don’t seem to want to expand. He hears someone call for a taxi then moments later, Tony is being pulled down into a sitting position. He closes his eyes and leans into the touch combing through his hair with lips parted. More laughter echoes around him and he sways from the noise. Everything is a blur, a mix of motions and noises.

 

ººº

 

           Daniel lays Tony prone on his bed and smirks at the barely coherent playboy mumbling quietly. He sets up his tripod and makes sure Tony is in focus. The recording light turns on and he dons a ski mask.

           “Ready for some fun?” Daniel asks off-camera. He proceeds to strip off all his clothes, leaving his boxers on – a noticeable tent forming. He walks over to the bed, ties a black neck tie over Tony’s eyes and begins to undress him. Heat warms his belly, just thinking of all the ways he wants to ruin the man in front of him.

           “I watched you all night. Grinding on all the women, grabbing and squeezing them like they’re your property. You always want it, don’t you? You’re a whore for it.” Daniel licks his lips and pulls down Tony’s underwear. Pressing his lips against Tony’s ear, he whispers so the camera can’t catch it, “You’re going to lay there and take it, like the fucking slut you are. You’re going to beg for it, make a show out of it while I fuck you senseless.”

           He reaches into his nightstand and retrieves a small glass bottle of Amyl nitrite: a muscle relaxer. Uncapping the bottle, he holds it against Tony’s left nostril while blocks the other, making sure Tony inhales it fully before repeating the process with the other nostril. Tony sinks further into the mattress and lets out a relaxing noise. Just as Daniel promises, he pops open a bottle of lube and begins to work on Tony’s entrance.

           Not realizing he’s blindfolded, Tony can’t figure out why it’s so dark, but then a feeling is being pushed against his rear and he freezes. It’s warm and slow. He’s never had this sensation before, he doesn’t know where he is or what’s going on. He tries to move but his muscles won’t listen to him, he’s only able to lazily move his fingers. The object at his rear is now entering him and pushing against his walls. His mind is a mess, nothing coherent sticks and he’s getting frustrated that he can’t think back to what he was previously doing or where he was. He feels aroused, sick, relaxed, and uncomfortable all at the same time. A small, frightened whimper escapes his lips without his command, and he hears a breathy laugh behind him. Something – possibly a hand, pushes his legs apart until it feels painful and he whines from the strain.

           Daniel watches Tony’s shaking fingers slowly clutch the sheets as small breathy whimpers fall from his mouth. He inserts a third finger and searches for that spot. He knows he hits it when Tony bucks into his hand and a small moan fills his ears. Daniel smirks, slipping his fingers out to aim his hard member at Tony’s now puckering rear.

           Tony’s gasping and holding hard onto the sheets as something drives the air out of him. It stretches and pinches but he can’t get a word out to make it stop. It becomes clear to him what’s happening when a volt of pleasure races up his spine, but he doesn’t like this feeling. His mind isn’t as foggy anymore and thinking is getting easier with each passing minute, but it isn’t fast enough. He goes over where or when it might’ve gone wrong and shudders. Even if he did drink a lot at the club, he shouldn’t be this drunk, which means…someone’s drugged him.

           He’s starting to panic, he wants to run from the confused terror of what’s unfolding but he can’t move. The more he tries to form words, the more irritated he becomes. If he can just them to _stop_ maybe the person will listen. The word is there, it’s on the tip of his tongue! Despite it being already dark behind the blindfold, he shuts his eyes and focuses on the one word. When something sends ripples through his body, his thoughts are interrupted and he sucks in a sharp breath. It happens again and he can’t stop the moan that steals itself from throat. More follow suit and he recognizes the warm, aching feeling that’s being rubbed raw against the bed sheets underneath him. He tries to say stop, instead a jumbled moan and murmur tumble out mouth.

           Daniel is quick, harsh, and relentless. Sweat drips off his chest and onto Tony’s back as he pistons into the trembling body, “Look at you, moaning like a fucking whore. Is this still not rough enough for you? You want more? You want more? Scream for me!” He raises himself using the small of Tony’s back as leverage, which only pushes Tony further into the bed.

           Tony’s crying now. The new angle pounding harshly into his oversensitive body brings more pain-induced moans that he’s trying so hard to hold back. With the new position, the constant pressure against the small of his back is torturous, his muscles straining and burning. His arc reactor pushing against his chest in a painful slant. He feels heat pool in the base of his stomach, getting tighter and tighter, orgasming with a litany of moans and sobs.

           Tony’s entrance squeezes around Daniel, making him climax and empty himself inside the abused body. He slides out and lays down on Tony, rubbing his sweaty hands up the sides of Tony’s ribs.

           “I knew you would enjoy it. You’re a slut for cock.”

 

ººº

 

           Tony wakes up with a pounding hangover. He can’t remember much of last night, but his body is killing him. Upon opening his eyes, he flinches at the bright lights coming in through the blinds. A groan is accompanied with a few stretches as he assesses the room and situation. It’s a relatively small apartment, one door leading to a bathroom and the other leading to what he assumes is the main room. He’s naked, the sheets are a mess and he’s sore, albeit not sore where he typically would be. He gets dressed and prepares to come up with some excuse – or money if she asks for an incentive to keep this out of the press.

           He dislikes the women who ask for money after, in a way it’s like they didn’t do it because they like him but because he’s rich. An inner voice comes back to him, telling him that people only use him for his money anyways. He shakes the thoughts away and enters the kitchen. He freezes, however, when he sees a man cooking breakfast. _Great, another one-night stand where I slept with someone’s wife. Shit._ He gulps and looks to the front door, if he’s quiet and quick enough he can just leave…or maybe he can pay his way out. It’s too late, during his contemplating the man turns around and throws him a smirk.

           “Um, I guess I’ll be leaving then…” It’s awkward, Tony hates this part of the one-night stands, but he’d be damned if he apologizes for sleeping with a woman who doesn’t care she’s in a relationship.

           “I guess so,” He’s ogling and Tony begins to sweat. He’s starting to doubt there ever being a wife by the way the man is staring him down.

           Tony takes in a shaky breath, “Did we-” Before Tony can finish the question, the man is in front of him with his fist pulling the neck of Tony’s suit.

           “You can leave, but I want you back here tonight by 8 p.m. If you’re late, I’ll show everyone how much of a whore you really are.”

           Tony tries to back away from the man’s face, but his grip is too strong, his height and muscles overpowering him with ease. Tony wants to respond, but he isn’t sure what to say or how to react. He chokes and tries to back away, he reaches for his phone only to find it missing.

           “You’ll get your phone back tonight. But before you leave, I have something to show you.”

           He tugs Tony by his shirt into the bedroom and makes him sit on the soiled sheets. The man holds the camera out in front of Tony’s face and presses play. His throat tightens around a lump, his breath coming out in pants, his eyes burning. He thinks back to last night, but nothing makes sense. The last thing he remembers was a man giving him a drink and then everything became distorted and fuzzy. Bile burns at the back of his throat as he watches himself moan and lay there.

           “You…you spiked my drink?” It’s a whisper, an accusing, disbelieving whisper that Tony never thought he’d have to say.

           “You can’t tell me that you didn’t enjoy that. Look at yourself, you’re practically begging me to ram your ass,” He snickers loudly and Tony remembers. He remembers that same laugh at the club, in the taxi, and then here. He didn’t want it, but he wasn’t able to say anything.

           “No, I didn’t!” Tony jumps off the bed and meets the man’s eyes, “You- you…”

           “What? You think I raped you? Who are you going to tell- better yet, who’s going to believe you? Once I show them this, no one can deny that you fucking loved it.”

           “But…y-you can’t- this isn’t…” He right, it looks like Tony wanted it, he wasn’t fighting, struggling or telling him to stop.

           “For once, the gifted Tony Stark is at a loss for words. Amusing. Here’s what we’re gonna to do: you will come to me whenever I ask, you will not tell anyone about me or about what you do here, you will do everything and anything I command _without_ hesitation, and if you break any of these rules,” The man turns up the volume of Tony’s breathless moans, “I’ll make sure this gets published everywhere. Stark news has been awful quiet lately, I’m sure this’ll spread like wildfire. So, be here at 8?”

           Tony’s shocked, he’s stuck and feels claustrophobic. But then again, what else can he do right now? He doesn’t have a plan or a way to get the camera away from the hulk-ish man before him. He’s just a person without his armor. He’s not an assassin with hand-to-hand combat training, or a super-soldier, or a radioactive rage monster. He’s weak.

           “Okay…” Tony stands from the bed leaves. He looks at the door number and forces himself to remember it along with the building floor and name. There’s no way that today is real. He’s finally lost it, this is just an insanely real nightmare, he’ll wake up in his workshop covered in sweat. He isn’t being blackmailed, Tony Stark doesn’t get blackmailed. He’s Iron Man for crying out loud!

           His head is spinning by the time he makes it to the tower. He prayed that none of the others would have to see him like this, but nothing ever goes his way so why should it now? Steve seems to be making it back from his daily jogs at the same time and they meet at the lobby entrance. Even though the war hero has been running everywhere, he isn’t breathless when he greets Tony with a disappointed, “Hello”. They stand silently in the elevator until Steve speaks again.

           “How was your night?”

           Tony wants to laugh hysterically, tell him how he was roofied and forced into bed by a man even bigger than the soldier, but he settles with a short, “I’ve had better.”

           “Well…I’m making breakfast, and sense you’re up early why don’t you join us? I’ll just take a quick shower and call you down whenever it’s ready…or you can come down and help or whatever,” Steve responds.

           It sounded sincere and filled with hope that he won’t skip out on yet another team meal. However, Tony’s been caught on a bad morning, and the thought of food makes him sick. But he can’t keep disappointing people, so he agrees to meet back with him after he takes a shower as well. Steve blushes slightly at the mention of Tony showering, and Tony surmises that he probably thinks it’s because he had another one-night stand, which he did…in a way. Maybe categorizing it as another fling will make it hurt less.

 

           Tony lets he water burn his skin, turn him pink as he washes off the sweat, tears, and…blood. The sight of blood makes him quake. He squats down and hugs his knees, willing the breakdown to go away and let him go another day without incident. He can’t break today, not when he has to go back there tonight. He gets out and dries off, not bothering to look at himself in the mirror. He doesn’t want to see the hollow person he once was. If he had looked, he would’ve seen the bags under his eyes, how he’s lost a couple pounds, how he hunches in on himself, and that confused, lost look in his dark brown eyes. Last night was the culmination of how quickly things are rolling down hill. He puts on a plain white t-shirt and sweats, not feeling like dressing up until later tonight when he tells the team he’ll be ‘clubbing’, yet again.

           He taps at his arc reactor through the shirt as he sluggishly walks through the door to the kitchen. The moment all eyes rest on his, he instantly wishes he stayed in the shower pulling all his hair out.

           “Do I have something on my face?” Tony asks in his well-practiced suave tone.

           “Just surprised to see you up early,” Clint answers with a smile, “Later we should play Mario Kart. I still can’t beat your score.”

           “Well that’s because I’m the best,” Tony quips effortlessly. _Just be cool, they won’t suspect a thing_. Natasha catches his eye and he swears she’s just analyzed all his thoughts and knows exactly what happened last night. He quickly looks away and glances to see what Steve is cooking, the smell making him queasy.

           She speaks anyways, “You haven’t been sleeping and you’ve lost weight. What’s going on?” It’s a question that usually entails some sort of empathetic emotion, however Natasha purely sounds matter-of-fact. He knows she’s made other assessments but didn’t voice them, and that perplexes him.

           “That’s what pulling all-nighters and not eating will do to you,” Bruce answers from behind his newspaper. He sounded tired of having to reiterate to Tony how often he should be eating and sleeping, but Tony isn’t a child and he doesn’t need everyone telling him what to do or how to live his life. He chances a glimpse at Natasha and she seems to still be waiting for Tony to answer, but Steve interrupts and says that breakfast is ready to be served. He tells Tony to make himself a plate first, and the genius feels maddened with how much they’re babying him.

           Tony eats his eggs and bacon slowly, poking his fork into the pancake and watching the syrup slowly ooze out. Sure, he hasn’t eaten anything more than coffee and protein bars in the last couple days, but he’s fine and his stomach hasn’t complained nor asked for any food. He smashes a small chunk of egg between the prongs of his fork and almost feels jealous for the innocent, unborn chick who will never have to experience how cruel the world is.

           Bruce peeks over his paper and watches Tony smash another egg chunk, “Stop playing with your food, Tony.” It’s a comment he’d typically answer with a backhanded or snarky comeback that would have everyone looking at him with mild disgust or amusement, but this time he simple nods his head and cuts a piece of the pancake into a bite size. He can only eat half the pancake and most of the eggs, but it’s enough to satisfy Steve into agreeing to let him leave the table. Clint calls out for him and reminds him not to forget about Mario Kart. One more minute around them, and he would’ve fallen apart at the seams. He locks the door to his penthouse and curls into his bedsheets. He just wants to sleep, to escape reality, but he’s too afraid of what he might see.

But what can be worse than the nightmare he’s already living?


	3. Out of Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drink wouldn’t even help him now.

          He’s a disappointment, he knows that. Anyone with eyes can tell from looking at him. If they look at his track record during his young and reckless days, they’d see him as a careless, self-destructive, narcissist who makes crude comments towards politicians and snobby rich people. That’s who they still believe him to be, and it’s so hard to make people understand that his parents had died that same year he had to become the CEO of SI. Everything was happening one after the other and he was only twenty-one. However, no one cared about the crying rich kid with all the toys he could get his hands on.

          Tony sits on his bed, dressed in one of his more expensive black suits, thinking how different it would be if his parents hadn’t died in the crash. He thought he was living the golden years, he thought nothing could touch him or throw him off his game. That was until Afghanistan exploded shrapnel into his heart, flinging him into a world of cold reality. When he saw what his company encouraged, what he let happen while he drank his champagne, left a foul taste in his mouth. So many innocent people _died_ because of him. Three months trapped and tortured into building the Jericho Missile forced him to pop the bubble he had lived in and face his wrong doings. When he returned, he believed shutting down the manufacturing of weapons would easy his guilty conscience and help save lives, but it only created more enemies and hatred. Lies and secrets behind his back. Mutiny in the form of his trusted ‘adoptive’ family.

          And he realizes why. After years of being a reliable distributor he’d let a lot of people down. He’d have to be selfish to make them see things from his point of view. People trusted him to provide protection to their family out there fighting on the line, and he’s failed.

          That’s what he’s most guilty for. And there are countless things he wishes he can change and make better, things like: saying goodbye to Howard and telling him he loves the bastard before he left and died in the crash; he should’ve given Pepper everything she wanted and more – screw the damn twelve percent; he should be the hero so many kids look up to and strive to be. That being said, he’s miraculously made a better name of himself after years of discipline and throwing himself into his work. Journalists write about how ‘magnificently mature’ he’s gotten, how ‘dangerously driven’ and ‘ferociously focused’ he’s become. So, he can’t let that video get out, he _can’t_. He can’t survive the backlash, the hatred, the disappointment, the jabs. Not again, not after he’s struggled already for so long.

          He stands abruptly, bed creaking quietly from the lack of weight. He gives himself a once-over in his full body mirror. With shaking hands, he adjusts his tie and straightens his suit. _Deep breaths, Tony, just take deep breaths and all this will be over_. He takes his handkerchief out of his inside pocket and wipes the sweat forming over his forehead. It’s a lie, he knows that. How can it be over when he can’t even see a finish line? With the footage in that man’s hands, Tony is trapped and at his mercy.

 _Big man, in a suit of armor…take that away, what are you?_ Steve’s voice echoes in his head.

          “Lost…” Tony whispers, eyes burning. _Stark men are made of Iron!_ A memory of Howard screams. Clenching his fists, wills the tears away. He will _not_ break. He’s made of iron.

          He takes the elevator right to the lobby, fully bypassing the communal room and telling JARVIS to let everyone know he’ll be at the club. He can’t bear to tell them himself. He walks into the shabby looking apartment building and rides the elevator to the third floor. There’s no use feeling like a victim when he’s the one that came here himself, just get it over with. Sex is sex, and Tony is Tony. Do what everyone expects and be a whore. He knocks against the burgundy door and listens to the sound dishes clanking and heavy footsteps. No turning back.

          The door swings open, “It’s only 7:30. That eager?” He chuckles, making Tony’s heart speed up and his throat tight. He can’t do this. He was scared he’d be late, he doesn’t know how lenient this man is with being tardy.

          After being welcomed in, Tony’s starting to remember more about the other night. This man’s name is Daniel…Daniel _something_. But, how can he rely on that? He mentally slaps the back of his head. It’s most likely a fake name. Tony takes a seat at the small, two-seater table and tries not to look so small.

          “I was about to eat,” Daniel say, standing in the kitchen and clattering through plates and silverware, “I’m sure you’re good enough just eating cock.”

          The laughter is humiliating and Tony bites the inside of his cheek. He can’t risk being rude, not when this man holds his reputation on the line. Daniel walks around him and sits on the opposite side of the round table. The plate before him is covered in mashed potatoes, steaming asparagus, and a large steak. Does this guy really intend to make him sit here and watch him eat?

          “On your knees. I want you under the table enjoying your dinner,” There’s no room for argument in Daniel’s command. But when he glances under the table, he doesn’t see a plate on the floor, he looks t Daniel with a questioning brow. He receives a single nod and slowly sags to his knees to sit under the table. His cheeks burn with mortification.

          “I’m positive a well-trained slut like yourself knows what to do. But here’s a hint just in case: suck. I want to be taken care of while I enjoy a nice meal, you wouldn’t mind I’m sure. And don’t tell me you won’t do it, I’ve already given that little video of ours to a friend who can easily publish it in just one press of a button. So, get to work,” Daniel said, spreading his legs a little and taking a bite of his steak.

          _Control your breathing, Tony, you can get through this_. He closes his clammy palms in fists and can’t seem to move, _Dammit, just do it!_ _Imagine seeing all the people you care about leaving you because they thought you’d gotten back into being reckless and self-destructive_. His hands are shaking but he unzips Daniel’s jeans regardless. He forces down a gag, Daniel isn’t wearing underwear and he’s already decently hard.

 _This is what the end tastes like. This is what being at the bottom smells like. This is what being numb feels like_. Tony flees to his mind, to a place he used to go when he was trapped in that dark, damp cave. Except, Yinsen isn’t here to bring him back from the brink of reality.

          He gags and chokes when the tip hits the back of his throat. The rough treatment is like a rush of cold water being splashed into his mind and he’s present for a horrendous moment. The men back in Afghanistan wanted to use him, take his body. But Yinsen convinced them not to in exchange for working faster on the missile. He held that coming back home would ensure his safety from people like them, that being an Avenger gives him exclusive ‘don’t fuck with me’ benefits. Yet, he’s in the lap of the vary monsters Yinsen risked his life standing up to.

          It’s salty, thick, and hard to keep down. He will never tell a woman to swallow again. Daniel yanks him up by his hair and he gasps, trying to break free from the hand ripping away at his follicles. Tony is thrown onto his back and bounces on the springy mattress. He watches in increasing hysteria as Daniel fishes out two belts from this dresser and ties Tony’s wrists to the bedposts. It’s coarse and chafes at Tony’s skin, but Daniel doesn’t seem to care about the other man’s discomfort and proceeds to undress himself.

          Tony’s shoes and pants are being swiftly removed, he closes his eyes and feels distress paralyze him. All he can hope for is that it won’t hurt. The buttons to his black dress shirt are now being slowly and meticulously undone, when his fingers ghost over his arc reactor Tony realizes how exposed he truly is. How easy it is for Daniel to simply rip it out and watch him die. The shirt is spread open, nowhere to go but to the sides. He’s been naked in front of a lot of people, but he’s never felt so nude in all his life, so vulnerable and helpless. The warm mouth around his flaccid member takes him by surprise and he’s dismayed by how quickly responsive he is. A finger covered in something slick traces the rim of his rear, making his tense up. The finger pushes through the ring of muscle regardless, it pinches and burns and draws out a hiss through his teeth. He can’t focus or breathe, all he feels is the fingers pushing further and further inside, digging and intruding. His vision goes white, breath catching in his throat, arms tugging and fingers scratching at the belts binding him. His legs shudder and try to coil inward as an orgasm is stolen from him.

          Dread pools at the base of his stomach when he feels a larger fleshy appendage replace the finger. He isn’t ready. Terror strikes him, the panic envelopes him and he tries to buck Daniel away from him. A series of punches to his stomach knock the air out of him and force his body still. Daniel punches right below his arc reactor and he sees stars, vision swimming and chest constricting. So easy for Daniel to rip it out and kill him.

          “You try to fight me again,” Daniel hisses, “And I’ll make things a lot worse for you. Consider yourself lucky I’ve been treating you so well. Everyone knows you don’t deserve the curtesy of respect,” Daniel spits on Tony’s face and plunges in until their skin collides.

          A hand flies to Tony’s mouth as he lets out a screech. His eyes shut against the pain, he searches for his safe place but the present is overwhelming and chokes him. He’s lightheaded and dizzy, his mind trying to handle the situation. Daniel grabs Tony’s legs and hauls them over his shoulders, Tony begs him to stop. The new position is so much worse, it makes him heave and choke on his cries and pleas. Warm liquid trickles down his backside and onto the white sheets.

          “Yes! Look at you, fucking begging for it,” Daniel’s face is inches from Tony’s, his sweat dripping all over the smaller male’s quaking skin, “You’re disgusting. _Shit_ , you’re a fucking pig who likes being fucked like a whore. Say you’re a slut for my cock!” Daniel grabs Tony’s hair and tugs hard, “Say it!”

          In this moment, this traitorous moment, Tony’s pain contains some traces of pleasure, bringing his member to full hardness. How could his body like this? It’s painful, degrading, humiliating, and evil. Daniel slaps Tony, bringing him back from his thoughts. _I can’t! I can’t say it. Please, don’t make me say it,_ Tony’s mind begs in a continuous loop. When Daniel’s hand grips Tony’s arc reactor, he loses it.

          “I’m-” Speaking proved harder than he thought. The pain making it almost impossible to get a word out. “I’m…a-a…a slu-ut for y-your cock.”

          It hurts when he climaxes, he sobs and can’t stop his body from tightening despite it only causing more pain. He feels molten lava burn his insides, making his internal wounds scorch and sizzle. Daniel pulls out and blood and semen seep into the soiled sheets. Tony’s chest is rising and falling with the speed of his heaves and sobs. He pulls at the belts with all his might, watching them scrape and irritate his wrists. He wants to get out, he needs to leave. He’s stuck! It all hurts so much. He can’t breathe. His wrists burn with the urgency of his tugging and pulling.

          He hears a camera click. He looks up right as the flash burns his corneas. Daniel shows him the picture and Tony stops struggling, giving up he slumps against the drenched pillows. The picture can’t deny how completely debauched he looks. His hair is sticking up and wild, his eyes are cloudy, there’s semen on his stomach and his skin is covered in sweat. The camera angle hides the fact that his lower half is ruined, bleeding and torn.

          Daniel smirks and unties his bruised and raw wrists. They fall to his sides, where he lays motionless, staring blankly beyond the ceiling. A tear rolls down his left eye, past his temple, and into his hairline, but he doesn’t feel sad- nor angry, afraid, depressed. He feels nothing. Yet, something. He feels lost. All he’s ever wanted was to become a better person. Where had he gone wrong? Is this deserved? Is Daniel just one of many who believe he deserves this? Daniel looks like he doesn’t feel bad for what he’s doing. _Maybe it’s because no one would feel bad_ , Tony thinks.

          He’s needy, narcissistic, careless, destructive. Lost. His senses feel tingly and fuzzy, as if what’s happening isn’t real. Sitting up, he accepts the pain and gets dressed on autopilot. Everything is like he’s looking at it through a filmy screen. Everything is quiet, not even a voice in his head can be heard. Just…silence.

          Daniel doesn’t stop him when he stumbles out the front door. He staggers a bit but makes it to the elevator successfully. He looks at himself in the metallic reflection from the elevator walls and comes his hair with shaking fingers. If he were to see himself on the street, he wouldn’t think anything of it. His sunglasses especially hide the gone, broken look.

          He tells the taxi where to go and startles himself by how distant voice his has become. Tony checks his watch, it’s nearing midnight, and relief floods him. Maybe the team will be in bed or at least on their own floors. He can still evade everyone by taking the elevator straight to his floor and locking himself in his penthouse. He doesn’t know how much he paid the taxi driver, he just takes out all the cash in his wallet and stuffs it in the man’s outstretched hand, disregarding the shocked expression he receives.

          JARVIS, required to run full body scans via procedure, asks him how he’s acquired all his injuries, but Tony mutes him. Tony tells his longtime friend and A.I. to neglect the body scan protocol until further notice, JARVIS acquiesces. Tony makes his way through his floor’s hallway, stripping his clothes as he walks. He turns on the shower and sits on the tub floor before the water has a chance to warm up. He can’t feel the water pelting him as he stares blankly at the blood washing down the drain.

A drink wouldn’t even help him now.


	4. On and On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is set up for failure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait!! I've been on set and finally had some time to visit family. But OMG guys!! Today is the last day for the audition! OMG I'm so nervous! At midnight, the actor will be casted. Thank you all so much. Even if I don't get the gig, you guys got me to the #1 spot and kept me there for the past 16 days. I'm eternally grateful for your support. Love you all! xoxo

          They’ve lost faith in him. He can tell.

          No one verbalizes it, but he can sense the tension radiating from the team. It started a week ago, after the second time he visited Daniel, Bruce had confronted him in the lab and asked him if he was going back to his “old ways”. Tony didn’t know how to respond, because there was nothing he could say that would suffice as enough reasoning for leaving every night. Upon lack of a response, Bruce sighed and went back to his work.

          Since then, Tony’s gotten his phone back and receives texts from Daniel regarding the date and time he’s expected to ‘hook up’, as he called it. So far, it’s been four days and nothing’s needed from him, during which he’s participated in several team building events. Sometimes he’d get lost in the moment and find himself loosening up and forgetting about his recent obligations.

Tonight, he and Bruce ride the elevator up to the communal floor for dinner, where apparently Natasha’s cooking up her favorite soup; therefore, no one is allowed to skip out on it.

          “Hey boys, you finished playing with your toys?” Natasha’s calm voice has a slight edge of playfulness that Tony’s slowly learned to pick out.

          “Considering we’ve been down there for practically the entire day, I’d say we’re done,” Bruce answers, taking a seat at the kitchen barstool.

          Tony saunters over to the giant, stainless steel pot and peers inside, “That’s soup…right?”

          He receives a light-hearted slap to the shoulder and miniscule smile, “It’s borscht.” Tony gives her an odd look and she explains, “Yes, soup. Now leave me alone and go play or something.”

          Just as Tony is about to respond, his phone vibrates in his pocket.

 

          **From Daniel:**

**6:27 p.m.**

          _Be here by 6:30_

 

          There’s _no_ way he can mean tonight, it’s impossible to make it over to his apartment in only three minutes. He grabs a fistful of his hair and tries to steady his breath, reminding himself that he’s around people. Natasha is going to hate him for this, but he has no choice. _Shit! He only has two minutes!_ Tony screams internally. He’s beginning to panic. He tells Natasha he’s sorry and how he just remembered he’s already made dinner plans to eat out with a friend. She’s annoyed and hurt, even if her practiced stoic expression conceals it. Tony knows how it feels to have a person choose someone else over them. He leaves before anyone can argue with him and rushes to taxi.

          It’s already 6:32 and he’s still in heavy traffic. He bounces his right leg and rubs at his forehead. Tony turns on his phone and checks the news websites, tabloids, and googles his name – nothing unusual comes up. Has he not published it yet? The taxi pulls to the curb in front of the apartment, it’s 6:40. Tony pays the man and hurries inside and jumps into the elevator. It’s too slow and Tony thinks he should’ve taken the stairs. The metal door slides open and he tries not to panic when he walks down the empty hallway. Daniel’s door has never looked more intimidating, he’s already more than ten minutes late and nothing’s happened.

          He knocks on the door quietly, hopping no one answers. When it rushes open, Daniel is furious and grabs the collar of Tony’s shirt, throwing him to the floor before slamming the door behind him. Hearing snickers, he looks up to see two other men sitting on the run-down sofa.

          One of the men holding a beer looks to be Tony’s size, just more muscular and blonde with a full beard. The one beside him is probably the same height as Daniel but lanky. He has a worn-out face, probably from too may parties and drugs. They both laugh as Daniel kicks Tony in the stomach several times before letting up. He drags Tony to the bedroom and demands he strip. Tony looks through the bedroom door towards the snickering men, receiving a slap from Daniel as he does so.

          What choice does he have? Daniel seems drunk, angry, and violent – all the things that keep reminding him of Howard. Tony didn’t have time to dress in anything fancy – he’s still wearing what he wore in the lab with Bruce. He quickly removes the white t-shirt and jeans, leaving him in his plaid boxers. Daniel pushes him onto the bed and rips the thin fabric off Tony.

          “You’re late. Did you forget you place?” Tony flinches at the sheer amount of anger emanating off Daniel’s warm body, “Well don’t worry, you’ll learn it tonight.”

          The beating comes out of nowhere, and Tony is exposed, vulnerable, and outmatched. Never has Daniel hit him so hard before, nor has he ever expelled this much hatred. When the hits finally stop, Tony chances opening his eyes and sees that the two men from the couch are watching him intently.

          He guesses he should count himself lucky that Daniel didn’t hit his face, Tony wouldn’t know how to explain the bruises otherwise. His body is sore, and hurts when he tries to move his limbs, which is probably the other man’s goal. Daniel walks forward and Tony can’t help curling in on himself. Roughly yanking Tony’s legs away from protecting his bruised stomach, Tony watches Daniel encase his limp cock within a metal cage, a small silicone nub enters his urethra and plugging any release. It’s cold and bites his skin as it tightens securely around his balls all the way to the tip.

          Daniel flips Tony onto his stomach and pours a generous amount of lube onto three fingers. He pushes all three digits into Tony’s tense entrance. His scream is effectively cut off by the force of Daniel’s punch to the back of his head. He grips the sheets in white knuckles and bared teeth to muffle his groans of torment.

          There’s no slowing down. Once the fingers pull out they’re pushing in even further. It might’ve required several tedious minutes, but soon enough Tony feels a spot inside of him that rouses a moan from his clenched teeth. The fingers retract and he feels cold air wisp at his wet and exposed rear. After a few moments of blindly waiting, he feels something brush against his puckered hole. Daniel pushes a silicone vibrator halfway inside and turns it on to its highest setting. The rapid sensation makes Tony jolt, forcing the cage to drag against the sheets in a painful tug. He whines as he feels himself harder but the cage makes it feel stuck and pinches at his skin. 

          “You’re right, man, he fucking loves it!” Tony can’t tell who said it, but he blushes all the same.

          The toy begins to move in and out with increasing force, drawing out more moans and whimpers. His heart is thudding in his ears, his pelvis tightening with the need to release. His hips push back without his control, bringing a raucous chorus of laughter. An intense feeling punches him in the stomach, an orgasm without the aftereffects of reprieve. When the toy is removed he tries to catch his breath, however there’s someone pulling his hips upward and shoving their thick member in his sensitive hole. There’s no warning or a second for him to breathe before he’s being pounded into. With each thrust, the pleasure overrides the pain and he’s dizzy with the overload of the constant pressure. By the time the man finishes, he’s aching to release. He brings a hand down to tug at the metal cage, but there seems to be a small padlock on it. He’s panicking at the thought of being trapped in this constant state of ache and need, in the hands of his torturers.

          Another man lines up with his sore rear and slides in gingerly. It’s a striking contrast to the brutal pounding he was earlier subjected to. This new friction makes him quiver and tremble uncontrollably. He whimpers as the pleasure continues to build within his stomach, his balls try to go into him but are trapped in their cuff. It’s maddeningly slow, he doesn’t care if he’s moaning and mewling like an animal, or that they’re calling him shameful names – he needs release.

          He rolls his hips back as pleasure entangles him in another dry release, leaving him wrecked and unsatisfied. The man pulls out and empties himself on Tony’s back with a long moan. Daniel turns Tony over and runs a soft hand over the cage eliciting a whimper from the playboy. Pulling Tony to the edge of the bed, Daniel throws Tony’s trembling legs over his shoulders. He enters in one swift motion and begins a vicious rhythm. Tony is moaning, tears rolling over his sweaty temples and into his wild hair. He reaches a hand to the cage, a silent question directed to Daniel.

          It’s one word.

          “Beg.”

          Tony opens his mouth and knows he’s lost, “Please. Please let me cum, please!”

          Unlocking the cage, Daniel throws it to the side of the room with a clang. With one stroke, Tony’s vision goes white and ears ring from the power of his orgasm. Daniel quickly follows and slumps on top of Tony’s twitching body.

          “What are you?” It’s phrased as a question, but it sounds more like a statement demanding one specific answer.

          “A whore.”

          Daniel pulls out and strolls over to his friends with a wicked smile. He grabs the camcorder from the bearded man’s grasp and walks over to Tony. Taking the memory card out of the device, he holds it in front of Tony’s watering eyes and leans in close.

          “You belong to me. _That’s_ your place,” He whispers, low and malicious, “Get outta my sight.”

_That's my place._


	5. Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Natasha talk about Tony's behavior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Audition update!!!  
> I'm so stressed and crying right now because I'm both excited and nervous! The auditions have officially ended and I got an email from one of the founders saying to expect a call tomorrow at 3p.m.
> 
> I'm soooooo nervous! My stomach is trying to jump out of my throat. Thank you all for the support and for voting for me. I'm so moved by your efforts and that I've been at #1 for 17 days now. I never thought I'd even be there for a second. When all of you commented on 'I Need A Hero', saying you were voting for me, I seriously have never been so happy in my entire life. I seriously cried happy tears. I love all of you who helped me understand that level of happiness and how it feels to have supporters. I'm truly overwhelmed.  
> When I get the call tomorrow, I'll let you all know what happened. Good or bad news, I'm still so very grateful for this experience in my acting career.
> 
> Thank you all so much. I love you!! xoxo

Steve

          Steve gets out of the taxi and walks into the Avengers Tower. If ever the reason permitted, he’d tell Tony he likes the building a lot better than when it had the billionaire’s name on it, but perhaps that would just be asking for an argument. Which is another thing he’s been enjoying lately: the absence of Tony’s rude comments, dirty jokes, and best of all – the bitterness between them. He usually can’t stand being in the same room as the loud, narcissistic man-child, but recently things have started to mellow out. It’s as if Tony has become a completely different person after the Battle of New York.

          The super soldier furors his brows as he rides the elevator to the shared floor. Putting a pin in the fact that Tony _is_ different _._ He strides out of the elevator in the direction of the kitchen and washes his hands in the sink.

          “What’s with the look?” Natasha asks, leaning against the counter with a glass of water in her hand. It looks like she just finished a sparring session.

          “Have you noticed something…different about Tony?” Steve asks, taking out the carton of eggs from the almost empty refrigerator. That’s another thing, “He also hasn’t restocked the groceries…” He says offhandedly.

          “By different do you mean how he’s more withdrawn, anxious, submissive, spacey, quiet, and abnormally polite? Yeah, I’ve noticed. He also leaves at random times, sometimes spread out in weeks or days, and comes back even more dazed. He hasn’t been the one to start a conversation with anyone – not even Bruce – and when he _is_ spoken to, he’s short and clipped,” Natasha lists casually, as if she’s known all along.

          Steve smirks and remembers who he’s talking to. He places a pan on the stove and looks at her. “What do you think his deal is?”

          Natasha places her now empty glass into the sink and begins to walk out of the room. “The real question you should be asking is, ‘What is the cause’? Let me know when breakfast is done, Stevie.”

          Steve takes in what she said and tries to mull things over as he cracks the eggs into a glass bowl. Now that she mentioned it, Tony is doing all those things and it hasn’t been a slow progression, either. The first day they first came to the tower, Tony skipped the pleasantries immediately, too eager to show them each of their own private floors and training rooms. He even bragged about the number of new weapons and gear he’s been coming up with for our next mission, however none of them have been presented to him. Now, the only thing that’s the same is his name, but not even that seems to still belong to him. It’s a night and day comparison.

 

Natasha

          Striding down the hall, she opens the door to the shooting range. Clint draws his arrow and fires flawlessly at his mark – she smiles, patting him on the shoulder.

          “Steve’s got me thinking. At first, I thought I was being too analytical towards Tony – because, he’s _Tony_. He’s known for doing things anyone should and shouldn’t expect, but have you noticed how odd he’s been behaving?” Natasha asks.

          Clint lowers his bow and looks at Natasha’s serious expression. “Yeah, but I’m thinking that’s just Tony being Tony. None of us has ever actually lived with the guy, so who’s to say what’s normal and what isn’t?”

          “Steve thinks somethings ‘different’ about him, too.” She pushes the topic without stressing how concerned she is, “It’s no coincidence that we all came to the same conclusion. Have you spoken to him recently?”

          He shakes his head. “No, he’s been locked up on his floor since yesterday,” Clint supplies.

          Natasha nods her head and exits the shooting range with the sound of Clint drawing another arrow. Clint’s correct; Tony hasn’t made an appearance at all yesterday. In fact, she’s seen very little of him ever since she made dinner three weeks ago. However, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t left his room since then. It doesn’t take a classically trained spy to notice how Tony evades them, or at least tries to. If everything she’s read about him is true, Tony should be loud and an active socialite greedy for attention – but that isn’t the case. She’s positive he hasn’t hosted a political function in weeks, nor has he accepted any of the invitations to attend charity events despite him being the biggest contributor. That isn’t like him at all. Tony’s energetic, and people love that. He never passes up an opportunity to explain or demonstrate his life-altering inventions.

          Reaching her destination, she knocks against his door and listens for any noise. There’s a small shuffle on the other side, but no move to answer. He has an entire floor, yet he’s standing next to the door, or at least close enough to be heard. If he’s this close, that means he’s about to leave and apparently her being there is preventing him from even opening it. She knocks again and hears the shuffling stop. He can’t pretend to not be in there, that’s childish, even for him. The billionaire must be trying to figure a way out or is waiting until she leaves.

That makes something tweak within her, because Tony shouldn’t be this bent up on avoiding them. And she hasn’t heard of anyone upsetting him, so that must mean the shift of behavior is due to an external factor beyond the team.

          “Tony, I won’t force you to come out…” She pauses but he stays silent, “I just wanted to let you know that Steve should be done with breakfast by now and I know you haven’t been eating much. You don’t necessarily have to eat with us, but promise you’ll eat something.”

          “Okay…” Tony replies instantly, but he sounds hesitant and drained…frightened almost.

          _He can be lethargic from not having gained any sleep, but why would he sound timid and afraid?_ Natasha thinks.

Turning her back to the door, she makes her way back to the elevator. She _will_ discover what he’s hiding, and she needs to do it quickly. Because whatever is happening is going to destroy him.

Why didn’t she notice sooner?


	6. Parasite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it took me so long to publish this! I've been on set and going to auditions all week.
> 
> But GREAT NEWS!!!!!  
> I won the voting!!! I'm going to New York City and I'm going to cry so hard haha.  
> All of my "I Need a Hero" family as well as the ones who voted from this story, thank you all so very much for your support! I literally couldn't have done it without you! I love you all so very much. Wow...can't wait for our Spider-Man movie night *wink wink*

          Parasitism. A _non-mutual relationship_ amid species, wherein one species, the parasite, benefits at the expense of the other, the host. A Symbiotic Relationship. One organism, the parasite, benefits and the other,  the host, is generally damaged.

          Synonyms: bloodsucking, leechlike, parasitic dependent.

          Sextortion. A form of blackmail in which sexual information or images are used to extract sexual favors from the victim. Social media and text messages are often the source of the sexual material and the _threatened means of sharing it with others_.

Blackmail is an act, often a crime, including unwarranted coercions to make a gain or cause loss to another _unless a demand is satisfied._ A form of extortion.

          Punishment. The delinquency is most often chastised as _a felony transgression_. In some states and in some circumstances, however, the crime may be classified as a misdemeanor – lower fines and jail sentences. Crimes of extortion including blackmail are generally considered  _felony crimes_. Felony crimes are met with **severe consequences**. Fines or imprisonment, or both.

 

ººº

 

          Holding a pillow in a hug over his lap, Tony rests his chin on the fluffy mass as he sits with his back pressed against his wooden bedpost. _Two months_ , he tells himself. _How has it gotten this far? You’re Iron Man! Figure it out and get yourself out of this shithole you dug!_

          His phone vibrates against the bedspread near his right leg and he holds the pillow tighter. It’s been getting worse every time Daniel calls him. He demands he arrive within an impossible time slot; should he fail…he’s subjected to humiliating consequences. The time slots get smaller and smaller, which makes the penalties all the greater.

          Tony has allowed so many men to take him, he’s allowed them to destroy him. _But…I deserve this_ , Tony thinks. _I’m a playboy who goes to parties and sleeps around with any woman who looks at me. I’m a disgusting, useless whore._

 _A_ whore _._

 _I deserve this. I deserve the shame. I deserve this, I deserve this, I deserve this…_ Tears threaten to spill over as he reaches for the phone.

 

**To Tony:**

**3:16 a.m.**

_I know you’re awake, slut. Just waiting for daddy’s cock._

**3:17 a.m.**

_Be here in 5 minutes._

          Tony opens his nightstand drawer and places his phone gently inside.

_I deserve the humiliation. I deserve to be shunned. I deserve to be alone._

          He closes the door and takes a deep breath, counting the seconds with closed eyelids. This has to be done, _needs_ to be done, because he can’t go another day giving himself away like that. He’d rather have the world know how screwed up he really is.

          He deserves nothing less.

          Ten minutes go by and he’s starting to sweat out of fear that Daniel will come here and beat him. His phone vibrates inside the desk several more times, he’s starting to panic and second guess why he’s doing this. He reaches in his desk and grabs the vibrating phone, he shuts it off and throws it across the room. Thirty minutes pass and he gets out of bed to get ready for Daniel, but he stops at the bathroom door. He can do this, there’s no way that Daniel can enter the tower without JARVIS notifying him or the team.

          Actually, no. He’s put JARVIS on mute after the A.I. assessed his many bruises and wounds, and told Tony he knew what had happened. He was going to tell the Avengers, but Tony commanded that his comings and goings be kept secret as well as the injuries he returns with.

          “Unmute, J…A-are you still there?” Tony asks, voice small and hopeful.

          “Always, Sir…” The A.I. responds quietly, calm and reassuring. The certainty in his voice makes Tony’s knees buckle and he slides down the wall next to the bathroom’s entrance.

          “Thank you,” His voice is thick with emotion, “I-I’m sorry…”

          “Do not apologize, Sir, for I am only angered that you insist on hiding your pain. If you will allow it, may I advise you?”

          Normally, JARVIS wouldn’t ask about giving Tony advice or suggestions, which makes him believe it’s because JARVIS is afraid of saying something wrong and being muted again.

          He looks down to his lap in shame, “O-of course.” It comes out in a whisper.

          It’s a few moments before JARVIS speaks, “You have been communicating with the same person for two months, two weeks, three days, and 4 hours until you abruptly ended the contact. And within that time span, you leave the facility upon request and return…injured, Sir. I have already relayed with you what I know, based on the scans I’m assigned to do upon entry to the tower, and yet you have continued to put yourself in harm’s way. Seeing as you are not making an attempt to confide in the Avengers, shall I phone Colonel Rhodes, Sir? You have a higher susceptibility of expressing yourself in the presence of him rather than your team.”

          He’s right. Rhodey’s someone who he always ran to when he couldn’t handle being alone, anymore. If he was here, Tony wouldn’t have the courage to look him in the eyes – let alone confess what’s been going on.

          “No…not…not yet,” Tony says.

          “Then might I suggest you get some rest? I shall wake you when you have had an adequate number of hours, unless something were to wake you.”

          JARVIS doesn’t have to say it, but he knows he’s referring to Tony’s nightly disturbances. Nonetheless, he gets up from the floor and walks to his bed.

 

ººº

 

          Despite everything going wrong in his life, he had a decent four hours of sleep. He walks into the kitchen, showered and dressed, feeling better than he has in a long time. His feet freeze on spot as he sees all pairs of eyes are on him. They look angry, appalled, shocked, disturbed, and downright disappointed. It’s the first time he’s seeing them in several weeks and he doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. _There must’ve been something I did to make them angry. Was I not supposed to be here? Maybe I had to wait for them to call me first before I can eat breakfast. I should leave._ Tony pivots and takes a fleeting step until Clint calls to him.

          “Why would you send us this? You ditch all the team building exercises, avoid us for weeks, and then you send us _this_. What the fuck, man?” Clint’s voice sends needles up his spine and he flinches unintentionally. _I don’t remember sending them something…my phone was off all night._

          Tony turns around and bite his lip, “W-what do you mean?” He keeps the question short, only getting to the point and nothing else.

          “Were you drunk last night when you sent it?” Steve asks. It’s a simple question, but Tony can’t place why the accusing tone hurts so much. He feels claustrophobic and his internal temperature seems to rise. The first encounter with them after so long and he’s already screwing things up.

          “Please, tell me what I did…” Tony hopes he doesn’t sound as pathetic as he feels.

          Natasha stands from her place at the table next to Clint and hands Tony her phone. Grabbing it gently from her hands, he sees a link in her text-box, which is indeed apparently sent from his phone. Swallowing hard, he presses the link and gets directed to a video of him being fucked by five men. He’s lying on the center of the bed, men surround him as they empty themselves on his gasping body. He looks dazed, worn out, and if he didn’t know any better he would assume he’d just had an orgy. But he does know better, and he swallows the rising bile that burns at the back of his throat. He takes out his own phone and turns it on. There’s fifteen unread text messages, the last one reading:

 

**To Tony:**

**5:54 a.m.**

_One more misstep, and the rest of New York sees your true colors. But for now – I’m sure your team will love seeing you ravaged by so many dicks._

_Tonight. 8. You better fucking be here._

 

          The silence is heavy and weighs down on Tony’s shoulders. He’s speechless as he hands the phone back to Natasha. He asked for this, he deliberately chose not to show up last night and that means he deserves this. He deserves their hate and rejection. He’s a whore.

          “I…um, I’m sorry,” Tony can feel his throat tightening, but he refuses to cry in front of them. He will not let himself break.

          Steve scoffs at that and crosses his arms while he leans back in his chair, “You’re sorry? That’s something none of us will never un-see. How could you think sending that was okay, Stark?” He’s taken the tone of his Captain America persona and Tony tries to catch his breath. “Were things just going too well in the tower that you decided you should mess it all up? What is it supposed to be? A joke? What you did, it- it’s disgusting and wrong. Don’t ever send us videos of…what you do on your free time ever again,” Steve’s voice is strong and rattles through Tony’s hollowed frame.

          “I didn’t think you were into taking it up the- ow!” Clint clips his sentence short as Natasha kicks him under the table and sends Tony an apologetic look.

          “That’s uncalled for,” Natasha says to Clint.

          “Tony…I thought you were better. You invited me here to work on new projects together, but I can barely get you to come down the lab – let alone work with me. You act like you don’t want to be near us.” Tony inhales sharply and looks to the floor. “What, you’d rather do this then help out with the team?”

          “But did you…did you watch the whole thing?” Tony regrets it the moment it tumbles out of his mouth. He truly meant that if they had watched the entire thing, they couldn’t have thought he wanted it. He remembers that day clearly, he was sobbing from the pain, begging and chocking as they laughed at him. Called him names and spat on him like he didn’t deserve to be in their presence.

          “What?” Clint’s voice is unbelieving and dangerously low, “You’re a sick freak if you think we’d watch five guys give it to you,” He chuckles darkly and turns away from Tony. Natasha doesn’t stick up for him this time, she doesn’t even look in his direction.

          Tony’s mouth runs dry as he scans the rest of the room, no one looking or speaking to him. He wants to apologize to Bruce, but if the slight green tinge is any indication, he probably shouldn’t say anything. He deserves this. To be alone and rejected. But it hurts, it rips his heart out and shatters it on the floor.

A single tear runs down his cheek as he looks to all his team members who won’t even spare him a glance. He walks to the elevator and lets a sob fall from his lips as the metal door closes.

          He takes a taxi to Daniel’s apartment and hurries up the three flights of stairs. It’s only nine in the morning, he isn’t expected until eight tonight. But he has nowhere else to go. Daniel’s the only person that still looks at him with purpose, like he isn’t completely worthless. He looks him in the eyes while he spits out indignities, he’s never turned his back on him. But no matter how much Daniel loathes Tony, he needs him. Tony urgently knocks on the door and waits for his last hope to open.

          “I’m going to be honest in saying that this is quite the surprise, Tony,” Daniel says. He gestures for Tony to enter, and he does so without hesitation.

          “You’re crying.” It isn’t so much of a question as it is a statement. “So, I take it the team enjoyed your little good morning present? I warned you about what would happen if you disobey me, and yet you stood me up last night. My feelings were hurt,” Daniel circles Tony, rubbing his firm hands over Tony’s torso.

          “I’m so, so sorry,” Tony croaks through his tears.

          “I know, baby, I know. That’s why I won’t punish you today. Because you surprised me. In fact, we’ll just do this one thing and it’ll be just for you – wouldn’t you like that? Just some you and me time today?” Daniel’s voice is soft and gentle, everything Tony needs right now. Tony leans into the touch and nods his head obediently. Daniel grabs his hand and walks him into the bedroom. He takes Tony’s clothes off slowly, mildly, until he’s standing bare.

          “Because you’ve been good to me, I’m going to make this so good for you. You’ll have to trust me on this, won’t you trust me?” Daniel receives an eager nod and he smiles brightly. “Lean over the bed and spread your legs for me then, baby.”

          Every touch is careful and slow, and he can’t help it when his muscles relax under his touch. After months of constant abuse, both mental and physical, the delicate touches make him feel wanted and loved. The warm caresses feather up his thighs and knead circles into his tense muscles. A finger rims and prods at his hole, an all too familiar feeling creeps over him and he panics at the ghosting touch. Daniel shushes him and brings him back from the darkness with reassuring kisses along his spine. A cool liquid is poured directly over him and he feels the finger enter slowly. The sensation is different than before; it doesn’t hurt nor does it feel rushed and like a job. He grows aroused and hardly realizes that the single finger has now become three as he lay dazed against the cotton sheets.

          “Get on your back and lay your head against the pillows.” Daniel’s command is soft and makes Tony comply faster than before.

          He watches Daniel secure a pink cock ring around his balls, it pinches a bit and makes him feel tight but he refuses to complain about such gentle treatment. A butt plug is slowly pushed inside of him and stays snugly in place. Daniel gives him a smirk and lifts up two remotes.

          “You can cum when I’m convinced you’ll never leave me again.”

          Daniel turns both vibrators on to their highest setting, making Tony’s body jolt from the sudden intensity. Daniel quickly grabs both his wrists and wraps a rope around them. He secures the rest of the rope onto the headboard and takes a step back to stare longingly at Tony’s body. The playboy writhes against the sensations, moaning and panting. He tugs at the rope and checks to see that they are undeniably impossible to escape. He can feel his building release already and dry orgasms with a silent open mouth.

          He can’t tell how long it’s been, but maybe that’s because he can hardly remember his own name. The ceiling is spinning and he can’t focus on anything for longer than a few seconds. He sobs and wails as his seventh orgasm rips out of him. His balls are swollen and aching to explode, locked tight in the ring. His prostate is being overstimulated, merging from pleasurable to slightly painful. Daniel has gotten into the shower ten minutes ago, and he’s started to feel scared. He wants to call for him, but words wont form on his tongue as moans, cries, and forced orgasms abolish his body. He hears a distant door open and calls for Daniel in a mix of moans and broken cries. Daniel walks into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist and a somewhat concerned look on his face. Tony tries to tell him to make it stop, but the words won’t come out, they _can’t_. He’s gasping and hiccoughing, he’s frustrated and can’t stop the increasing pain as another orgasm is milked out of him. He feels the vibrations decrease a few levels and inhales a deep breath as he slumps against the sweat drenched sheets.

          “You’re supposed to convince me, or you won’t be cumming all day,” Daniel says patronizingly.

          Tony whimpers at the thought and tries to form a sentence, “Please, I-I’m sorry!”

          “I don’t think that’s what I asked to hear,” Daniel sounds disappointed and gets up to leave Tony, again. He turns the vibrations back up, making Tony howl as his thighs quiver uncontrollably. He can’t remember what he’s supposed to say, the vibrations making it nearly impossible to think. Daniel is almost out of the room and he breaks, spewing everything he can think of.

          “No! P-please don’t leave me a-alone! P-please don’t leave me! I’m scared. Please, don’t – I need you. It’s too much, I-I can’t – it’s hurting me. Please! I’ll always come b-back. I promise! I’ll never le-leave you. Please! Please!” Tony’s anxiety is peaking, the feeling of another orgasm inching closer, making him fear the pain that comes with it. The binding ring is taken off and his vision goes white, he wails as thick ropes splash onto his stomach and chest.

          “Never leave,” Daniel whispers as blackness clouds his vision.

Daniel’s words echo throughout Tony’s unconscious mind.


	7. Familiar Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhodes gets to the bottom of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the confusion regarding Tony's unusual behavior. I'll try and re-edit the last chapters, but for now I'm going to try and add some things so it all starts making sense. Thank you for the constructive comments! As much as anyone would dislike the criticism, it's extremely helpful! 
> 
> I also apologize for the late update. So much is happening. I suppose my head just isn't in this story as much as I'd like it to be, but that doesn't mean I'l abandon it. Now that I don't have any auditions coming up, I'll try and dedicate more time to making the story less confusing and more cohesive and logical.

James Rhodes

          Colonel Rhodes strides into the communal floor with a dark aura radiating off him in waves. The second he sees Steve in the kitchen fixing a sandwich, he slams his phone against the granite counter.

          “Where the hell is Tony?” He demands. “He has some fucking explaining to do.”

          “I’m guessing you saw the video, too? Did he _really_ send it to everyone?” Steve asks, looking exasperated and disgusted.

          “It was actually forwarded by Director Fury. After not hearing word from you all, he told me to handle it…but that’s beside the point. This isn’t right,” He taps his index finger against the phone’s screen while shaking his head, “Tony would never do this. Something’s wrong. Where is he? He here?”

          Steve frowns.

          “He’s been gone since yesterday morning. But he should be back in a few hours,” Steve replies slowly, sounding more alarmed than before.

          “Where’d he go?” Rhodes asks again.

          “Same place he’s been going for the past couple months: the clubs...” Steve pauses, setting his sandwich down on his plate, “But, you don’t think he’s been clubbing, do you?…Me neither. Rhodes, the team and I…we’ve been trying to get through to him and convince him to stop. But It just makes things worse, and he ends up locking himself away in his room for even longer periods of time. Natasha’s even picked up on some things that are rather…worth looking into. She’s tried to get it out of him, but he shuts her out…he shuts all of us out.”

          “Oh, rest assured, the video is all the encouragement I need to knock some sense into him,” Rhodes says, leaning heavily against the counter. Sensing Steve’s confusion he goes to elaborate, “You’ve seen the video, right?” Earning a curt nod in response, he continues. “Have you seen the _entire_ thing? From start to finish?”

          “I really don’t need to watch the whole video to understand what happened,” Steve says, blushing.

          “Watch it again for me, and this time focus on Tony. You don’t need to have the sound on, _just look at his face_. That’s all I’m asking.” With that, he makes his way to the elevator to go to Tony’s floor.

“Don’t tell him I’m here,” He calls just before the doors close.

          Apparently, Tony’s been habitually leaving, and to the same place each time. Now that, _that_ doesn’t stir right.

          Walking to Tony’s door he can’t help but notice he goes to knock – only to see that it has been left ajar. Another thing he would never do. Well, at least he doesn’t have to plead with JARVIS to let him in, although Tony _has_ given him exclusive rights to most of the commands within the tower.

          What he should’ve done from the moment he got on leave was check up on him. _Dammit,_ his friend is hurting and it looks as if no one else in the tower is doing a damn thing to help him.

          As it turns out, Steve’s prediction isn’t correct. It’s only been a few minutes and he can hear Tony walking about his room. The man freezes when he sees him through the now open door.

          “Wha-? H-honey bear…” It’s quiet and timid. Something Tony hasn’t been since first starting at MIT. That being said, he’s certainly no fourteen-year-old, he’s Tony Stark – industrial revolutionist…and also Iron Man.

          Rhodes steps up to Tony and looks him over, “You look terrible, Tones.” He watches in growing apprehension as Tony visibly deflates slightly at the comment. “Hasn’t anyone in this damn tower been taking care of you? Has anyone been reminding you to eat? Sleep? Shower?”

          “I’m not a kid.” Tony’s argument lacks his usual Stark easiness. He hasn’t even attempted to look him in the eyes!

          He lets a calm breath go before relaxing his shoulders. “I know you’re not...” He needs to just say it and get a straight answer. “At first, I was shocked that Director Fury was the one who forwarded me the video…” Tony flinches, but he presses on. “…not to say that I’d rather it came from you, but I guess the Avengers also received a copy. For the sake of this… _situation_ , let’s say you sent the video. Why did you do that? It doesn’t make sense, it’s not _you_. So, whoever sent it wanted to cause trouble. They wanted to hurt you.”

          The billionaire says nothing, only continuing to stare determinedly at the floor.

          “Tony…you looked… _uncomfortable_.” Still nothing. What if…?

          “Please tell me that you’re coming out as gay and the only reason you looked scared was because it was your first time, but you went overboard and invited too many people,” Rhodes says, completely deadpan. All he wants is a straight answer, but he doesn’t want his darkest thoughts to confirmed, either.

          Tony looks at him for the first time, but his eyes are like staring into oblivion. He seems lost, unsure of himself. He looks scared and depressed. 

          “I…I don’t know what you want me to say.” Tony shifts from foot to foot and loses eye-contact once again.

          Rhodes tries again, “I need you to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. You may be a genius, but terrible at expressing things. I know you. The _real_ you. I bet you’ve been working your ass off making new gadgets and weapons for your new friends, hoping it’ll make them like you more. You focus on making other people happy and forget about yourself. Look, what I’m trying to get at is…I’ve been serving for a while now…and I’ve seen some things that I never wanted to believe another human being was capable of. I’ve heard stories about what happen to the women in the small villages run by gangs of evil men is sick and disgusting…and the same thing happens to their children. It _disgusts_ me.”

          Tony stiffens at that.

          “I serve to bring people to justice, to protect those I love and care about. That includes you, Tony. Even when I’m at home, I’m still serving. Ever since I saw you’re scrawny, rich ass doing everyone’s homework to make new friends, I’ve made it my duty to protect you. So, when you don’t call me when you’re hurting or in an awful situation, I feel like that’s on me. You can trust me, I want you to know that. I’m here for you, but when you don’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t help you. That video you set – or whoever the _fuck_ sent it, is _not_ going under the radar. I can’t let that happen. C’mon, Tony. Please, be honest with me. Tell me it isn’t what I think it is.”

          “Rhodey…please stop.” It comes out as a plea.

          “I’m not doing anything, Tones,” Rhodes says calmly. “I just want to know what’s been going on. Everyone does.”

          “It isn’t important…It doesn’t effect anyone.”

          “It’s effecting you…”

          Tony shuts his mouth in a tight line and looks to his feet. The other man studies Tony’s movements carefully, trying to understand what he’s missing. From just this one encounter alone, he can see how much Tony has deteriorated since he saw him last. All the confidence that made up Tony Stark is… _gone_.

          “But…I deserve it.” Tony sounds certain, so certain in fact, that it’s as if he’s trying to convince his friend of it too.

          Rhodes takes a step back and runs a hand over his short hair. He shakes his head, left hand clenching and unclenching at his side with the need to hit something- no, to hit _someone._ Tony didn’t say he wanted it, he didn’t say it was consensual, he said he deserved it.

_Deserved._

          The reality of the situation comes tumbling over his shoulders as he looks to Tony. He’s on the verge of tears, his eyes showcasing a whirlwind of anguish and betrayal.

          “Hey, hey, Tony, it’s okay.” The taller man wraps his arms around his friend and tries to ignore the harsh flinch – as if he would hit someone so broken and afraid. “I should’ve came here as soon as I got back. Are you still letting these men hurt you?”

          “I deserve it.” Tony’s voice is swimming with unshed tears as he his friend tighter.

So, yes. Anger boils in his veins and he closes his eyes to count to ten. He needs to be calm about this, he _needs_ to be calm about this.

          “Please, don’t say that anymore,” Rhodes whispers, “You do _not_ deserve something like that. I don’t want to hear you say those words, again.”

“But, it’s true!” Tony exclaims, tugging on Rhodes’ shirt. “I deserve it all.”

“Stop it!” Rhodes chides. “None of this is your fault, and you do _not_ deserve any of it. Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

          “Because…this is who I am, Rhodey.” Tony sounds distant and brainwashed into what he’s saying, “Everyone knows I’m a playboy…a useless _whore_.”

          It’s like he’s reiterating what someone’s been poisoning his mind with.

 

Tony

          He feels rather than hears Rhodey gasp before promptly pushing him away from the warm embrace. Tony almost whimpers at the loss of contact but doesn’t argue because asking would be a petty demand. Rhodey looks sickened, and Tony doesn’t have the heart to look him in the eyes. If he loses another friend, he’ll crumble from the inside out. He’ll have no reason to go on.

          “No. _No_. We’ll have none of that. I’ll admit you did use to sleep with a lot of woman when you were younger, but you were never and _will never_ be a whore. Don’t you ever say that about yourself, Tony. You are the most selfless, caring, hardworking, talented person I know, and you deserve nothing but respect and dignity,” Rhodey quietly murmurs in his ear. He melts into his friend’s firm hold on him, like an anchor keeping him harbored against the raging storm within.

          Tony wants to believe in those words so badly, to hold them close and give him hope. Instead, he looks towards his feet in embarrassment. Why can’t Rhodey see what everyone else sees? People liked him better as the Merchant of Death. They preferred the billionaire. They preferred Iron Man. Never Tony.

He’s a rich kid who lives in a giant castle filled with all of his wants and needs. He can pull any girl he wants and get away with almost anything with his charm. Well, now he’s being taught a lesson. He deserves the pain, he deserves the guilt and the humility and the rejection. He needs to learn the error of his ways. His friend just hasn’t noticed the benefits yet.

          “Come on, don’t be mad.” He tries to calm Rhodey down. It’d be bad if he gets involved. “People like me better this way. You will too, trust me.”

          “Like you?” Tony flinches at the accusing tone. “Do you even hear what you’re saying? Tony, your team is _worried_ about you. Steve told me that you won’t talk to them, so I’m guessing you actually haven’t been showering them in new toys and inventions.”

          “I-I’ve just been busy…”

          “You’ve never been too busy to help out a friend,” Rhodey’s voice is soft and unquestionable. “You spend every minute in your workshop coming up with ideas so that you can keep everyone safe. You hardly sleep or eat when you know that there’s something you can do to help someone or improve something. If you aren’t busy doing that, then what are you busy doing? Clubbing? No. You were out only _one_ night, and then stopped after you left with someone. If what you’re telling me is true, then I can only believe that you’re in an abusive relationship. A violent, sexually ab-”

          “Stop!” Tony covers his ears and turns away. He isn’t in a relationship with Daniel. He would never allow that to happen. _Daniel is just my…he’s my…teacher? Daily insight? He tells me what everyone thinks about me. He treats me the way I’m supposed to be treated._

          “Tones…It’s alright now. We’ll help you.”

          “No! Please, don’t. Please. I deserve this. Just- just…” If Daniel finds out Tony told someone about their secret hook-ups, he’ll publish the videos and pictures to everyone. “It’ll make it worse. I can…I can take it. It’s okay,” Tony anxiously says, offering a weak smile.

          “Take me to him.” Rhodey crosses his arms, sounding unwavering.

          “Rhodey, please. You’ll make it worse!” Tony’s on the verge of having a panic attack, his resolve slowly bubbling to the surface. He feels trapped, torn between wanting help and fearing the repercussions.

          “There are people in this tower who take down bad guys for a living. You have support, Tones. You aren’t alone, we-”

          “He’ll show everyone!” The words fly out of his mouth before Tony even realizes what he’s saying, “He has videos on top of videos of him doing things to me. He’s somehow hacked into JARVIS, my phone, my-my- he’s just taken control over everything! And I don’t understand how he did it without me finding out. He’s smart, he knows what he’s doing…If you thought the video you saw was bad, then you have no fucking idea!”

          The billionaire slumps down on the nearby bed, defeated.

          “He took pictures, Rhodey. _He took pictures._ He takes them and shows me how fucked up I look.”

          Rhodey stares at his sudden outburst.

          “Because guess what! Sometimes I can’t control myself, and I lose it. I give in and become an absolute whore! I lay there and let him do whatever he wants. And I fucking _beg_ for it! I beg for him to move faster, to make me feel good. No matter how hard I try he always wins! I try so hard to keep it in, but my stupid- my stupid fucking mouth won’t stay shut! He knows I like it, that’s why he keeps doing it. I get harder than I’ve ever been in my entire life, so that _must_ mean that I like it. But I- but I…I can’t help it! My body won’t stop betraying me, Rhodey!” Tony’s voice finally cracks and slumps forwards, his face in his hands. He shudders, trying to breathe past the gasps. “I don’t want it! I don’t want it! I swear, I don’t. Please, don’t hate me!”

 

Rhodes

          He’s stunned silent as he watches Tony unravel. Rhodey watches the heavy streams run down his gaunt cheeks. Tony’s voice rose an octave, his distress loud and clear. He looks so young in this moment. It reminds him of the time Tony failed his first test after being tricked into partying with a bunch of other seniors. The dicks convinced him to drink and got the kid drunk before an important entry exam. Tony was too hungover, he couldn’t even make it two feet from the toilet. He was in shambles and said Howard would kill him, that he would never have a perfect record ever again. He wouldn’t let go of his pillow as the fourteen-year-old wailed and gasped hopelessly. Rhodes talked the professor into giving the boy-genius a retake. After he delivered the message, Tony’s smile lit up his entire face; a rainbow after hours of rain. It was the first time Tony ever initiated a hug with him. That was the second time it was his duty to help the kid.

          Rhodes lowers himself onto the bed and slings an arm over Tony’s shoulders in an awkward embrace.

          “It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. I’m not just saying that to make you feel better, I’m saying it because it true. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m a little upset you didn’t call me, but I can never hate you, Tony. You’re my family, and it’s my duty to protect you. Let me, ‘kay?”

          He gently jostles Tony’s shoulder and gets a nod in response. He signs with relief but doesn’t let his mind soften. There’s still some bastard out there who needs to be dealt with.

          “Why…why didn’t you tell anyone? Or at least stop it yourself?” Rhodes asks after a pregnant pause. He feels Tony shift beside him and pull away.

          “…The team already thinks…they think I’m a screw up as it is. I _know_ they do. After the first time, I wanted to tell them…but things between us are already tense and awkward, I didn’t want to make it worse. Everyone seems to like me better this way, so why should I complain? I…I just want them to like me and not have to worry about me messing up all the time.”

          Rhodes’ shoulders slump upon hearing Tony’s confession. He’s seething, wanting to tear the team apart for not seeing how much their supposed friend is falling apart. It makes sense in a way, for Tony to want to handle it by himself. He would hide the piles of extra homework, courtesy of all his friends, just because he was afraid of Rhodes thinking he’s too pathetic to make friends the real way. He didn’t want Rhodes coming to his rescue after every hurtful word was thrown his way, so he hid the problem altogether. And apparently Tony’s carried that same mindset with him through his adult life as well. This man has attacked Tony, an individual who’s already been through so much trauma, which means he’d want to solve it as _himself_. Not Iron Man, not the Avengers, and definitely not his ‘over-protective’ friend. And if he isn’t strong enough to fight his problems on his own, he starts to believe that he deserves what happening. Like how he believed he could only make friends by giving them money or by doing their work. He now believes he deserves to be used as penance for being a playboy and taking what he wants.

          “Tones…I’m going to have a talk with them,” Rhodes says, trying his best to keep the anger out of his voice. “We’re going to settle this.” He wants to say more on the subject, but he knows that once Tony is in this mindset, it takes a lot more than just words to make him feel better. “Before that, you need to eat something.” Rhodes stands, helping Tony to his feet alongside him.

          “What if…” Tony quickly closes his mouth and looks away. He can see the other man’s skin turn slightly pink.

          “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You can say whatever’s on your mind,” He reassures him.

          “What if they don’t like me anymore?” Tony asks quietly.

          “Tones, if they blame you for what’s been happening, I will War Machine their asses. But they won’t; they’re your teammates. Better yet, they’re your friends. They want what’s best for you...” _Even if they’ve been fucking blind to all of your pain and suffering._ But he leaves that out, instead offering Tony a reassuring smile and pat on the shoulder.

          “Come, on.”

He hopes he got to Tony in time.


	8. Teamwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team finds out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am extremely sorry that this chapter took so long to upload! I was in New York filming for an entire week and then I as soon I got back home I had college classes. Bleh. But I’m back now and I want to get this story wrapped up.  
> News about New York and my audition.  
> Again, I cannot thank you all enough. I’m so extremely happy that I can cry. You all just mean so much to me and made me the happiest person in the world. Thanks to your vote, I had to opportunity to go to New York and meet Hollywood producers and celebrities. My dream is coming true. My new agent said that she is going to make me famous because then the app will also go viral. So it’s a win-win. Just one step closer to watching Spidey movies together.
> 
> Seriously. Thank you. I love you. xoxo

****He can’t do this, it’s too much. Daniel is going to find out and ruin him – everyone is going to hate him. It’s already a scary enough risk with Rhodey knowing.

          Sitting here and waiting for the Avengers to walk through the conference room doors is making him shake with anxiety. His palms are clammy and his fingers won’t stop fidgeting, subconsciously tapping against his jeans. Rhodey is sitting to his left, his hand resting on Tony’s knee, as if to provide some sort of physical support.

          Natasha is the first to arrive, a neutral expression fixed on her face. Clint comes after, followed by Bruce. Filling up the seats in front, they all turn as Steve makes his way to the head of the table. Tony’s surprised to see that Thor is also walking in, a wide smile as he greets the apprehensive man. He would smile back, but has a feeling that the slightest attempt would shatter his entire mask, and he _can’t_ fall apart in a room filled of superheroes.

          They lapse into an awkward silence, nobody knowing how to begin the meeting if no one knows what it’s about. Tony looks to Rhodey, silently begging the other man not to do this. His heart is beginning to pound, his skin is getting warmer. Too hot, it makes him feel nauseous, as if he’s going to vomit. He adjusts the cotton shirt away from his neck, hoping that no one notices how uncomfortable he is.

          “Alright,” Rhodey finally begins. “Thanks for making it…”

          “What’s going on?” Steve sounds worried. Tony can’t see his face, instead opting for locking his gaze somewhere in the middle of the table. He can only imagine the crystal blue eyes etched with concern. Not that he feels as though he deserves it.

          “There’s something that all of us have been kept apart of, and it’s time we knew,” Rhodey says.

          Everyone, minus Thor, nod in agreement.

          “What has transpired during my leave, friends?” Thor’s booming voice is both troubled and filled with unease.

          “That’s what I’m going to talk about,” Rhodey tells him. He glances around the room and takes a steady breath. “Yesterday, everyone- uh, the Avengers as well as Director Fury, received a videotape of what appeared to be Tony having…um, _relations_ with multiple men.”

          “It didn’t ‘appear’ to be, it was obvious,” Clint interjected. “Thor, here’s what happened.”

          Tony cringes for what’s to come. “We were all enjoying our morning, and next thing we know, we’re all blasted with this video of Tony getting it on with about five guys.”

          “Clint, that’s enough,” Natasha says quietly. None of them miss the hidden venom in her voice.

          Clint stops and turns to Tony, in a calm tone he says, “I don’t mind it if you’re gay, or bisexual – or whatever. Just don’t send that shit to people! I thought you stopped being such an attention seeking _whore_.”

          “Enough!” It’s a simple command that leaves no room for disobeying. Captain America has spoken.

          The archer sits back down in his seat and crosses his arms. Steve looks to Rhodey and gives a single nod for him to continue. Tony sits in shock as he realizes that both Natasha and Steve have just stood up for him, even if he knows Clint’s right about everything he said. He _is_ an attention seeking whore.

          “Clint, apologize.”

          Although nobody but the billionaire can see it, Rhodey’s hand is beginning to tremble ever-so-slightly on his knee.

          Clint scoffs and leans forward against the table. “What, are you serious? That’s _real_ fucking mature. Why am _I_ the one apologizing? Tony should apologize for sending his disgusting-”

          “Because you have no idea what you’re talking about!” Rhodey shouts, rising out his chair. The other man stared right back, refusing to back down in a clear show of defiance. “Haven’t you been wondering where he runs off to?” It looks as if Rhodey is visibly making an effort not to lose it right here and now. “Ever wonder why he never leaves his floor to talk to anyone? You’re going to tell _me_ that you didn’t notice _anything_?”

          Clint furrows his brows and hardens his lips into a firm line. Sitting back down and leaning against his seat, crossing his arms over his chest once again.

          “Rhodey…don’t be so harsh,” Tony says quietly. He’s ignored by the entire room. Ouch.

          “If you actually watched the video, you would know why you’re here. Why you’re all here. Anyone would…It wasn’t sex tape.” Rhodey’s voice is low and dangerous. Murderous.

          “Please, Rhodey. Don’t,” Tony pleads, pulling on the hem of his friend’s shirt, desperately hoping he won’t elaborate or say anything else.

          His plea is ignored.

          “From what Tony told me, for over two months he’s been getting…” He trails off, voice uncertain.

Is his heart even beating? He grabs Rhodey’s hand and tries to pull him to sit back down.

          “James, don’t. Please!” Tony’s voice cracks, as does his mask. He tries to stop it, he really does, but the tears build anyway and begin to distort his vision. He will _not_ let them fall. Rhodey looks him in his eyes and he wants to smile, thinking that maybe he won’t tell them. But no. Instead, his friend wipes the tear that quickly trails down his pale face and then looks away back towards the group. Bile is burning in his throat.

“ _Ple_ -”

          “He’s been getting raped.”

          Nobody speaks.

          Silence reigns.

          No one moves. Statues.

          Tony gapes at Rhodey as the _quietness_ of it all softly slaughters him on the inside. He shakes his head, tears now flowing freely.

          He wants to scream at Rhodey, to call out the betrayal. Tony steals a glance around the room and lets out a sob as he looks at everyone’s shocked and sad faces. He’s made them upset, he’s ruined another one of their days. _And no one is saying anything!_

          No one is telling him if anything is good or bad, or whether he deserves it or not. He’s so confused and hurt, caught between hoping that this isn’t his fault and wanting them to reject such a monster from their team. No one’s telling him they’re sorry or providing their support. So, that means nothing’s wrong, right?

 _So, he_ does _deserve this_.

          Then why does the rejection feel like a stab to his heart?

          Rising as fast as he can out of his seat, he goes for the door. He hears Rodey calling for him, but he doesn’t really want Tony to come back, does he? No. They’ve all made their silent choice. Why would they? It’s only Tony, after all. He truly is alone. What does he have left here if no one wants him? Why has he even gone this far, let this happen to him, when he knew all along how they feel about him?

          It’s like under water, everything sounds muffled and far away. Rhodey is still calling for him, he hears movement and a voice interrupting it. He grabs the door knob and flings the door open. He needs to get out. He _needs_ to get out! He can’t remember the direction to the elevator, it’s as if the entire tower has become foreign to him.

          Tony can’t stop the wretched sobs. With his throat swelling, he chokes and gasps as he stumbles down the hallway directionless. No one. He has no one. The reality of this fucked up situation he’s allowed himself to be swallowed into, is now choking him, bringing him to his knees as his mind scrambles for a ledge to latch onto.

          A hand suddenly grabs onto his shoulders and he jerks reflexively under the soft grip. He spins around, swinging a fist, only to have it effectively caught in the grip of another hand. It’s Natasha.

          “I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean- oh God.”

          Tony pushes her away and tries to put distance between them. How dare he try to punch Natasha, she doesn’t deserve that.     

          “Tony! Tony, it’s okay. You didn’t hurt me,” Natasha says soothingly. For the first time since knowing her, he sees pain in her eyes, creased brows. It’s rare enough that she shows emotion, let alone worry. Did he really cause that?

          Even though he continues his stumbling path down the hallway, Natasha keeps following, trying to grab him while he flails wildly in his attempts to get away. They struggle into the elevator – Tony trying to push her out and close the doors and her trying to pull him into the hall.

          “J, override 530-8722k!” Tony yells while struggling to stay within the elevator.

          “Sir, I agree with you wholeheartedly...but as much as it pains me, I believe it would be wise if you were not alone in this moment. Going with Agent R-”

          “Override 530-8722k! _Now!_ ” His voice cracks from straining and JARVIS complies without further argument.

          The metal doors slide closed and Natasha is forced to jump inside or risk leaving Tony alone. He presses the roof button only to have her push the stop button every time. He runs his hands through his hair and tries to stop the tears from falling.

          “ _JARVIS!_ ”

          It’s only a name, but the A.I. seems to know exactly what he wants and launches the elevator up.

          The doors open to the roof, Natasha is holding onto his arm trying to pull him back. But Tony drags himself closer to the ledge, huffing and struggling against the assassin’s strong grip.

          “Just let me do it, please!” Tony begs, all but screaming.

          And for a moment they both stand still, Natasha’s eyes wide and shocked. “You know why I can’t let you go, Tony,” Her voice is thick with alarm.

          “Please! I don’t want to do this anymore. Just _let_ me!”

          His knees buckle and he falls to the gravely floor. Small rocks push against his knees painfully, not enough to break skin but enough to leave an imprint. Natasha loosens her grip and watches him silently. Tony squeezes his eyes against his palms, trying to make the tears stop. Warm arms wrap around him fiercely, a gentle hand combing his hair out of his face. Despite himself, he leans into her and lets himself crumble.

          “I need you, Tony,” Natasha whispers. “You handle everything with such flare and humor, even in the worst times.” He feels a wetness plop against his forehead and looks up past his lashes. Natasha is crying, tear drops dripping off her chin.

          “You also have a heart of gold that no one knows about. The way you look at your fans, your friends…you love them. The type of love that ensures you’ll do anything for them…and I…I know I’m not the best with the sentimental things, but I want to do that for you. I tried to understand what was happening, but I wasn’t fast enough. Please Tony, this team needs you. The city needs you.”

          “Anyone can be Iron Man…just a man in a suit,” Tony’s voice is quiet, face resting against her shoulder.

          “No, I mean _you_. We need Tony Stark. We need your intelligence, your passion, your childlike curiosity, your heart, your charisma. All of it. You bring so much joy, Tony. I’m so sorry, I really, really am…We- I failed you…You don’t deserve to be alone, or pushed away, or treated the way we’ve been to you. Let us make it up to you…You’re part of our family, we need you. You wouldn’t want to let all of us down, would you?”

          Tony’s heart clenches, inhaling sharply. She’s right.

          He can’t let anyone down. He won’t allow that. But his chest is so tight, his heart is burning, and he can’t make the world stop spinning. Tony pulls her against him and smothers his face into her neck, trying to block out the pain. He shudders and gasps uncontrollably, focusing on her soothing presence. He wants so badly to ignore her pain, the emotions she’s trying to force back, if he acknowledges it then he’ll have to accept that he’s the one that caused her pain.

 

Conference Room

          They all watch with wide eyes as Natasha runs out the door in search for Tony, leaving everyone in a state of shock. And as Rhodes explains how Tony is being blackmailed, the shock steadily turns into shame. This man looks as if he has way more content than just that one video that they received. Not to mention he’s somehow outwitted the genius and hacked JARVIS, as well as everyone’s phones.

          “From what Tony’s told me, this man is hiding something a lot bigger than we think,” Rhodes finally breaks the silence after Natasha’s been gone for several minutes.

          They all do nothing as they watch him look at each of them, as if asking for forgiveness and acceptance. But they didn’t provide any, too shocked by what they had heard. And now he’s running from them.

          The tall man stands, waiting for Natasha to come back with Tony. He paces a few steps, agitated. Finally deciding that he can’t handle just standing around, he abruptly walks out of the room, leaving the others in the room to watch Rhodey leave. Wallowing in their shame.

          “I-I can’t believe- no! No! This just _isn’t_ possible!” Clint rises out of his seat, making the chair tumble to the floor. “Tony wouldn’t let that happen to him…he would’ve told someone. I mean, _fuck!_ He would’ve blasted that bastards with his Iron Man suit! I-I called him…shit, I called him a whore. _Dammit!_ Why did I call him that?” Clenching his hands into fists, he punches the wall with a feral cry. “He’s always been nice to me…I’m going to find the men who did this to Tony. I’m going to murder them all with my bare hands.”

          Steve places a hand on Clint’s shoulder and squeezes firmly. “We’ll find them together. Tony deserves justice…and he deserves our support. He shouldn’t be alone anymore.” Steve turns to Bruce and Thor, his Captain America persona taking over. “From here on out, we’re looking after him. He doesn’t leave this tower unless one of us go with him. We need to make sure he’s eating and sleeping. Most importantly, we need to find these men…and take them down.” Everyone nods in agreement.

          “JARVIS, what’s…what’s going on right now?” Bruce asks quietly, speaking up for the first time. “Where’s Natasha and Tony?”

          His questions are met with a silence, everyone in the room exchanging confused expressions. Bruce calls to him once more, yet nothing happens. Steve looks to the ceiling and frowns, thinking Tony must’ve told the A.I. not to respond to any of them. Then Clint tries.

          “We’re just trying to help, Tony.”

          The reply that comes it short and blunt – straight to the point.

          “I believe you’ve helped plenty. And although I am not at liberty to discuss the... _relations_ Sir has been partaking, I am aware that none of you took action to seek out the answers for yourselves. Therefore, you shall not seek for my assistance, you need to earn it back. Even if Sir will not say it himself, I am very disappointed in you all.”

          The silence fills the room as the A.I. stops. JARVIS is right: They need to make it up to Tony, and fast. Natasha and Rhodes come back into the room, both looking distraught and emotionally drained.

          “Tony’s sleeping in his room. We should have some time to really talk things over…” Rhodes mutters quietly in response to all the inquiring looks.

ººº

 

          He doesn’t remember passing out on the roof, but waking up in his bed is slightly disorienting. Tony groans when he stretches his sore body beneath the soft sheets. Then, as he sits up rubbing his eyes, yesterday’s events come rushing back. slowly sits up and rubs his eyes, remembering yesterday’s events.

          How can he face the team now? Certainly not after his humiliating breakdown.

          _They’re going to hate me…no, wait…Natasha said that she needs me…that_ they _need me._

          It’s a confusing set of thoughts,

          He scrunches the sheets in his hands, fighting with himself. He wants to hold onto that hope so tightly, but he’s afraid that if it’s all a lie, he’ll fall and never get back up.

          “Good morning, Sir. Captain Rogers has informed me that breakfast is ready, and you can choose to eat in your room or on the common floor. He is offering to bring it up, shall I decline his offer?” JARVIS asks. Tony can’t help but wonder about his A.I.’s sudden coldness. Usually J always needs to nag him to eat, often threatening to call Pepper should his reminders go ignored.

          And Cap’s…well Steve’s never made that offer before. If he accepts, they’ll all think he’s avoiding them after yesterday. Not like he isn’t going to _not_ to that, but he doesn’t want them making preemptive moves to corner him. But if does go, they’ll all look at him with knowing eyes and he can’t handle that either.

          “C-can I eat here?” It comes out small and unsure, as if accepting the offer is going to end up blowing up in his face.

          “Of course, Sir.” JARVIS sounds upset, not at him, but his choice. “He should be here in a moment. You mustn’t be so forgiving towards them, Sir. They ignored you when you needed their help most.”

          “J, drop it. I’m fine.” It’s harsh, and he knows his friend is only trying to help. But it isn’t the team’s fault for his reckless behavior.

          It’s awkward sitting in his bed, hands looking for something to occupy during the wait, eyes watching the door carefully. Only a minute later, he hears a knock on his door. He wants to speak, but nothing comes out, so he grips the sheets tighter. The doorknob twists, the door opening a little at a time before Steve is visible. He watches the other man bring the tray of food into the room with a small smile.

          “Morning,” Steve greets. “How’d you sleep?” He watches the other man set up the tray over his lap. Tony hadn’t thought about his night at all. Noe that he mentions it, he, for once, didn’t have any nightmares. _Huh_.

          “Um, it was…good, I guess,” Tony answers honestly. At that same moment, he looks to his tray and finds that there are two plates of food – there’s no way the super solider thinks he can eat all of this.

          Steve gives him a small nod. “Good.”

          “Uh…I don’t think eating this much is gonna make up for all the meals I’ve missed.” He sees Steve open his mouth and he quickly amends himself. “I mean, eating this much might make me-”

          “Actually…” Steve grabs one of the plates and walks over to the small table by the window. “Thought maybe I could eat with you this morning. That okay?”

          Feeling like an idiot for assuming he’d be force fed, Tony turns his mind to Steve’s question. He wants to say no, tell him to get out and lock the door behind him, but the man is already sitting with his fork poised in his right hand. He relents and gives him a single nod, looking down to his own plate when Steve starts digging in. The soldier must’ve already eaten downstairs, because one plate isn’t enough for his fast metabolism. However, the amount of food on Tony’s plate makes him somewhat nauseas.

          Thankfully, Steve ends up not pushing him to eat all his food, and for that he’s grateful. But he knows the super soldier isn’t here just to feed him.

          “You’re probably here to tell me how wrong it was of me to keep such a huge secret from all of you, right? Well, save it,” Tony mutters. “I can handle this myself.”

          “How? Handle it like you’ve been doing?”

          Tony’s mind goes blank, searching for a quip that’ll either make the soldier leave him or drop the subject all together.

          It’s Steve who breaks the silence, “Sorry…that was harsh…I just couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t ask for help when it all started…but now it makes sense. In a twisted kind of way.”

          Tony says nothing. So, the man continues, looking down.

          “We’ve been…judgmental. Trying to make you change from the second we stepped foot into the tower. No, I take that back…”

          Tony stiffens, crisscrossing his legs and focusing on Steve.

          “ _I_ wanted you to change the moment I met you on the helicarrier. Since waking up, I had to deal with the fact that everyone I know is gone, and you remind me so much of him sometimes. You look so much like him, but you’re just so- so _different_ than Howard and I couldn’t wrap my head around it.”

          Did he really look that much like his father?

_Damn._

          Well that’s a blow to the chest.

          “We got off on the wrong foot, I wanted you to be someone you aren’t, and for that I’m sorry.”

          “Some of it’s my fault,” Tony admits, “I egged you on. I-”

          “And I forgive you,” Steve says, cutting him off. “But what I’m trying to get at is…we failed you as a team. _We didn’t know_. I failed _you_ as a leader.”

          The look in Steve’s sky-blue eyes are as if he’s just been assigned to murder all the puppies in America. “If you’ll have us, we’d like to help you and…and to make up for our mistakes.”

          Tony _does not_ know how to respond.

          He thought the team hated the methods to get the ‘preferred’ Tony Stark, but he’s entirely wrong. And that makes him hurt so much more. They _do_ care about him, just as Natasha said on the roof. But, can he trust them? He can’t keep letting his guard down, because people always end up hurting him or he ends up being the cause of hurting someone else. It’s a continuous cycle: from his ‘friends’ at MIT who used him for his brain and because of his father, Afghanistan and his Jericho Missile project that lead to Yinsen’s death, to Obadiah betraying him and almost killing Pepper.

          And now Daniel.

          Somehow, he’s weaseled into his mind and heart, flipped his world upside-down. Making him believe his poisonous lies. Cap would never lie to him, though. He wouldn’t do that, right? He can trust him.

          “I…I never hated any of you,” Tony says with conviction.

          Steve’s eyebrows crease in confusion and disbelief. The billionaire puts his hand up, stopping the questions.

          “It’s fine, just let it be.” Taking a deep breath, the back of his mind is screaming for him not to go through with this. “His name is Daniel Foreman…” He says it before he can come up with a reason not to, but it doesn’t make it any better. There’s a deadweight on his shoulders, pressing into his neck painfully, making his lower back pinch and tighten.

          “Daniel Foreman…” Steve echoes. “Know where he lives?”

          Tony nods, running a hand through his messy bed-hair. “I can show you.”

          "No.” It’s firm, leaving no room for debate. “I don’t want you there. You’re going to stay here with Rhodes, Bruce and Natasha while the rest of us handle it. Understand?”

          For a moment, just a moment, the temptation to be defiant and tell him that he can go regardless was on the tip of his tongue. But at the same time, he feels relieved that he doesn’t need to see Daniel.

          “’Kay…”

He only wants someone to believe in.


	9. "Thank You Note" From the Author

I'm not sure how many of you will see this, but I just _really need_ to tell you all this. 

I've vlogged while I was in New York and I'm posting it on my Youtube channel. Link >>>  [My Youtube Vlog Channel](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCM0wOmZ1ECPnTYt57Kdc0Bg)

They will be called "New York Diaries" and will be posted in a series over the next few days.

I want to thank you guys, so I'll be making a video thanking everyone, as well. I'd love for you to see it. But if you can't wait to see the video, then I'll thank you here to.

 

I can't go a day without thinking about what you guys have done for me. I'm truly so happy. And I love you all. I've been given the opportunity to go to New York and meet so many talented, amazing people. My new agent said that she's going to make me famous, or "viral". And every step, every day, every time the cinematographer said "action" I just thought not letting any of you down. 

So many people went out of their way to vote for me. That first day, when I went from 40 votes to 100, I cried happy tears. I've never had support from my family in my acting career, but you guys showed me that I don't need their support or approval. Thank you. From here on out, I will strive to become a better actress, to get my face out there so that all of your time voting for me wasn't wasted.

 Thank you. Those two words will never be enough.

 

I was thinking of a name we can all agree on so that I don't have to keep referring to you guys as my "Homecoming" babies haha. 

How about Jeanies?

I know it doesn't sound all too creative. It's like Genie but with my name instead. I just thought that this fit because you guys made my wish come true. 

Love you.

xoxo

J

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be up soon, loves. I promise.


	10. *Author's Note* I'm Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's finish this thing.

Tears, tears, tears. 

 

It's 2:11 a.m., I'm sick, can't speak, can't sleep, but I'm reading everyone's comments and I'm crying. I cannot express how much I missed this story and how I feel so terrible for not finishing it. After getting back from New York, I've had so many acting jobs and auditions like crazy. School also started so I had to balance quite a lot of things. Despite things being hectic, I never once forgot about this story or about you guys. Coming back after so long and reading all your comments, I felt so happy. It reminded me of my first story and how we've slowly created this small family. Don't think I've forgotten about our Spidey movie night (;  I often find myself reading your cute comments, none of which I've deleted because I just don't have the heart for it. They bring happy tears and full smiles. 

I'm going to finish this story now that I'm on break, and even if I get a little busy I'm still going to find the time to dedicate myself to my work in other areas. This story's comeback is going to happen very soon. 

Thank you for reading my story, and if you're still there from the beginning I'm so grateful <3 

xoxo

J


	11. Safe and Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel gets a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I haven't lost my touch.   
> Please let me know if there's anything that strays from the story or doesn't sound the same as the other chapters. Sometimes it's difficult to rediscover that voice I wrote something in, as well as the proper mindset, so I hope I captured a small essence of it at least.   
> Otherwise, I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> xoxo

        After Tony told the team where Daniel lived, they got ready.

 

        And got ready fast.

 

        The anger in the air was almost palpable, even more so after Clint started muttering curses under his breath. And it didn't help when the sky suddenly went from bright to dark and ominous as Thor was filled in on what happened in his absence. It was probably a blessing that Steve possessed the ability of concealing his emotions on command, seeing as a level-headed leader was needed, now more than ever. Although, he did look rather conflicted as he walked out of the tower.

 

        Thor, Clint, and Steve had left only half an hour or so ago. Plenty of time to get to Daniel’s apartment.

 

        And plenty of time for Clint to get his sights on Daniel himself.

 

        His anger only grows into rage as he sees the bedroom door open through the window, and a tall muscular man walk in smirking. He watches as the man sits down on the bed, only to draw out his phone. Clint narrows his eyes, and him text someone.

 

        Arrow aimed in a death grip, he whispers harshly into the air - ready to aim and release.

      “I have a visual,” He informs the others through his ear com.

        Tony had designed them specifically for stealth missions. It’s practically impossible to detect them on any wireless network. So if the man is as smart as they think, the bastard shouldn’t be able to detect them. Thank God.

 

        Clint growls low at the back of his throat, knuckles turning white as he grips the bow tighter.

        “Let’s make this quick. I don’t think I can stand looking at this fucker’s face any longer without sending an arrow through that shit-eating grin.”

        “Cool it, Hawkeye.” Captain America’s voice is steady, a calm before a storm.

 

        The team makes it to the hallway. Steve pauses and places his fingers to his right ear.

 

        “On my call. Don’t do anything lethal unless absolutely necessary-” He cuts himself off, however, before he says too much. The others have no idea just how close their leader is to succumbing to rage.

 

        Taking a deep breath, he goes on, “How many are in there?”

        “Just the fuckard,” Clint responds. “But keep your guard up. I only see the bedroom and some of the kitchen. I have a feeling there’s more.”

        Steve turns to Thor. Giving a single nod, he secures his shield over his forearm and kicks the door down with a loud _bang_.

 

        It splinters on impact, wood flying through the air as the door flies down. Immediately he sees a machine gun resting on a stand, a man with a cruel smile operating it. Cap quickly pushes Thor as fast as he could out of the way, taking the bullets with his shield. The sounds of them rebounding off against his impenetrable shield loud in his ears. Just what have we walked into? Cap thinks, as endless bullets rain down on him. As he adjusts his footing to make a move, he hears Thor busting a hole through the wall beside him.

 

        Thor raises his hammer above his head and declares, “That pathetic toy shall not best me!”

 

        With Thor acting as an impromptu distraction, Cap dives into a somersault past the door frame and throws his shield at the man behind the heavy weaponry. These men aren't just ordinary civilians. Rhodey had warned them about Tony’s suspicion of Daniel being a hidden threat. Looks as if it isn’t just Daniel they have to worry about.

 

        Thor swings his hammer and hits a man right in the chest. The unlucky thug flew back, smashing against the wall. Screams and cries from nearby residents fill the background, some having probably already called the police. Great, unwanted attention is something Fury has been riding their asses about, too.

 

        “Guys!” Clint yells through the com. “What that hell what that? What’s going on over th-”

Before he can even finish what he’s saying, he suddenly spots Daniel opening his window and climbing onto the fire escape. What an idiot. Clint mentally remarks. Does this guy really think we’d be the kind to go on a mission without a lookout?

 

        “Looks like they were waiting for someone…” Steve pauses briefly to smash a head against his shield and steadies his breathing. “I just hope it’s us they wanted and not Tony. How is it on your end?”

 

        “Target on the move,” Clint informs.Readying a grappling hook arrow, the archer aims it at the opposite building. “Permission to pursue?”

 

        “Don’t kill him. I have a few things I want to say,” Steve responds with a grunt as he fights off another man.

        Clint fires his arrow the second he hears, and hooks onto the ridge of the brick building with a _clunk._ He’ll never tell anyone, but his Carson Carnival days have never felt more useful than at this moment.

 

        Running, Clint jumps, using his bow and the grappling hook line as a makeshift flying fox. He clambers onto the rooftop ledge, takes aim and releases...

 

        ...the arrow hits its target, severing the the man’s Achilles tendon with a _snick_. Smiling grimly, the archer stalks towards Daniel, now clutching his leg and writhing on the floor.

        “Got’em,” Clint says through the com.

 

        He deserves so much more than just a measly arrow through the ankle. Perhaps if Clint had gotten his way, he’d have a new dummy for target practice for the next few days – depending on how long the piece of shit managed to survive.

 

-

 

        As Thor and Cap stand in the middle of the room surrounded by unconscious and heavily breathing wounded men, Steve makes a mental note to have S.H.I.E.L.D. collect them and do what they feel is right, but right now he has someone he needs to ‘speak’ with.

 

        Heading up to the roof, the two of them find Clint glaring at a motionless body on the floor. Upon further inspection, they see the slow rise and fall of his chest and approach him menacingly. Using his boot, he rolls him over roughly, squatting to look him in the eye.

        “Why?” It’s the one question that has been eating away at Steve since he found out. Who in their right mind _does_ that to another human being?

        “Stark should’ve died a long time ago.” Daniel mutters.

        “What the fuck does that mean?” Clint shifts restlessly, wishing Cap would just give him a reason to end the bastard’s meaningless life.

        “He murdered our leader Obadiah Stane. We could’ve had everyone begging for their freedom back if Stane hadn’t gotten greedy and took a suit for himself. And like him, I missed my opportunity to kill the last Stark,” Daniel spits to the ground nearest to Steve’s shoes.

 

        “What are you saying?” Steve’s trying, but he can’t understand. He knows about Tony’s former mentor and how he had literally stolen his arc reactor and tried to kill him, aside from selling weapons to terrorist groups. Everyone knew how Stane had worked with both Howard and Tony, gaining their trust while worming his way inside the company, poisoning it. But what does that all mean?

 

        “I wish you all could’ve seen the way he begged for it,” Daniel’s voice drips with venom. “He would sometimes call out for help. For you.” Steve feels his stomach drop when Daniel glances at him. “He’s _pathetic_ , all of you are! You’ll regret not seeing it sooner. You’ll understand what we’re trying to do. You won’t be given the grace of forgiveness. There will come a time when you will all fall by hands far more powerful than yours. Hail HYDRA!”

 

        Daniel then bites down hard and starts convulsing. For a few seconds everyone’s shocked still.

 

        Steve gasps and grabs the seizing man’s shoulders. “What the he-”

 

        “Suicide pill,” It’s Clint who answers it for Cap.

 

        Steve drops the man back to the ground and stands up. The archer stars at Daniel’s still form. It finally makes sense… in it’s own morbidly twisted way. This whole time, they were trying to avenge Obadiah by making Tony’s life a living hell, and if Rhodey hadn’t stepped in, Tony… he might have never spoken up.

 

        He would’ve carried all that pain to his grave.

 

        Clint inhales deeply, closing his eyes to try and will away the nausea that settled in the pit of his stomach. In his life, he’s seen far worse than this, talked to people who’ve experienced a whole entire life of pain, but he _can’t breathe_. Not when it’s someone he cares about - not when he had the chance to stop it before it even got to this point. He tightens the grip around the bow Tony made, feeling undeserving and guilty. Turning away, he walks to the ledge and looks over at the police cars gathering below.

        As a friend, _he’s failed Tony._

 

-

 

        Thor tightens his grip around Mjolnir.

Even if he doesn’t exactly know the entire story, or why his iron companion kept such a crime secret, the god swears quietly to himself that he will do everything in his power to make things right. He should have been here with his team, even if that does mean only taking short trips to Asgard in the future. It might take a few moments for him to understand something, but Tony always took the time to explain earthly concepts to him and he seemed to have enjoyed it. He has already lost Loki, and Thor doesn’t want to lose Tony. They were friends - no, that isn’t right either. He was more important to Thor than a friend.

        As a companion, he has failed his brother.

 

-

 

        Putting his shield back over his back Steve looks over the railing of the roof, gripping it under his shaking fingers. Despite all their disagreements and varying opinions, he couldn’t forget that Tony is only human. He isn’t a god who knew the heartache of battle and loss; he isn’t a child trained to be an assassin equipped for every situation; he isn’t trained in the finer points of hand-to-hand combat, archery, or acrobatics; he doesn’t turn into an indestructible force of nature every time he gets angry; he isn’t a super soldier from Brooklyn. Tony’s as human as they come.

 

        He’s a man in a suit.

 

        No assassin training, no archery lessons, no serum, no radiation, no god-like powers.

        A human.

        He isn’t equipped for this like the rest of them. Sure, Tony’s been through it all, he’s experienced things that most people could never comprehend, and he’s

        had to learn from his past and apply it to who he is now. He created Iron Man to protect himself, to take back what the Ten Rings had stolen from him. Tony was tortured. A man who had everything served to him on a silver platter, who lives lavishly, a man who only lives to have fun. Now he’s…

        because they….

        As a leader, he failed Tony.

 

Avengers Tower

Twenty-five minutes since Steve, Clint, and Thor left. Tony can’t sit still.

 

        He keeps hovering next to Natasha on the couch as she flips through a cookbook for dinner. Rhodey’s in the kitchen making lunch for Tony, even though he’s already insisted numerous times that he has already eaten most of Steve’s breakfast, but the two hadn’t let up, saying he needs to eat more than once a day. No matter how badly Rhodey wanted to go with the others, Tony started to panic so he really didn't have a choice. He'd rather comfort Tony however he needs it than beating the shit out of Daniel for his own benefit. Bruce on the other hand, was channel surfing, not staying on anything much more than a couple seconds.

 

        “Sir, there’s something that you should be made aware of,” JARVIS says, sounding urgent.

 

        Just as Bruce is about to change the channel, JARVIS changes it to a woman on E!news, shuffling a stack of papers. But it’s the headline that catches their attention. Tony’s name.

 

        “It’s been awhile since we’ve heard anything about billionaire Tony Stark, but take a look at these videos,” The woman says, with a judgmental voice. “The sound has been muted, as well as partial blurring for the viewer's comfort.”

 

        A video of Tony strapped to a bed covered the T.V. screen. Bruce drops the remote. Daniel, whose face is blurred, entered and mounted Tony’s unresisting body. The video then stops, taking them back to the woman.

        “Now, that’s all we can legally show, but I’m sure most of you have already seen the full video by now. And many more have also been released. If this is a PR stunt on Tony’s behalf-”

 

        “That’s enough!” Rhodey snatches the remote off the floor and turns it off.

        “Sir, there are many more videos and photographs being released. I’ve managed to contain them; however, a number of individuals have already seen some of them. Don’t worry Sir, that news report I just showed you was ‘compromised’ before being put on air.”

It was JARVIS’ reassuring voice and efforts that bring Tony’s breathing under control. He doesn’t remember Natasha being so close to him, her hand running over his shoulders telling him to breathe, and him unconsciously mimicking her.

        Then he hears Rhodey yelling.

        “All the videos and pictures you can get, I want you to delete them from existence. All of them! Hack every database, every phone, file, computer. Just don’t let them get out,” Rhodey commands.

        “Of course, Colonel Rhodes,” JARVIS sounds more than happy to oblige.

        “Don’t worry, Tony. I’ll contact Fury and tell him to bribe the people who’ve seen them for their silence, he owes me a few favors,” Natasha promises him. “You’re going to be okay.”

        “Has anyone heard from Steve?” Bruce asks.

        “They’re on their way back…” Rhodey looks up. “The men have been taken care of. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s gonna handle the cleanup and cover story.”

 

        Tony stares at the blank television screen, eyes burning with the urge to cry.

 

        It’s over, right?


	12. Breathe Deeply

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony discovers how to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any typos or weird indentations. My beta did an amazing job so any other faults would be my own. I had to edit on my phone because I'm currently moving and my computer is stored away. I wanted to get this out before Christmas as sort of like a Christmas Eve gift haha. Also it was my birthday on the 22nd and I've had work every night now that my car is back from the shop. Fun fact: I deliver pizzas haha I feel like the Spiderman from the GameCube game when he had to delivery pizzas. Not sure if you guys remember. But yeah, I've been quite a busy bee :)
> 
> Again, if you find the chapter straying from character or the overall vibe of the story please let me know!! I love you all <3 
> 
> Merry Christmas, Jeanies!!
> 
> J

         Tony isn’t responding to any of them.

         Steve, Clint, and Thor had returned an hour ago expecting to see him with a relieved smile and open arms. Instead he’s unresponsive and sitting in the same position on the couch while staring at the TV. But why?  
  
         The problem is gone so he should be happy or ready to go back to his regular routine. Natasha had paused from trying to coax the billionaire back to the surface, now sitting at the table with a steaming cup of tea nestled between her hands, her eyes staring at the back of Tony’s head with a look of confusion and worry.

         Clint sits beside her exchanging hissed whispers. Steve catches only a handful of words: fault... dead...help... Nothing he can use to draw any conclusions. Bruce had asked Thor to help move things around the lab and then go to Tony’s room and make sure there wasn’t anything sharp. Stark had started to subconsciously scratch at his wrists. Every now and again Steve found himself glancing at the red crescent-shaped welts. Probably from fingernails.

          Somehow he feels selfish for hoping for Tony’s issues would go away once Daniel was dealt with, but this is something else. Steve runs a hand over his tired face. Maybe a shower would help. If only just to gather his thoughts and figure things out.

 

Rhodes

           “Tones,” Rhodey says as he sits next to his long time friend. “Let’s go to your room for a bit, yeah? You could use some rest.”

           Not waiting for an answer he grasped onto his hand and gently pulls him off the couch, half expecting Tony to resist. But nothing happens. The two make it to Tony’s floor.

           “Try and get some sleep…” Rhodey trails off guiding him to sit on the bed. What is he supposed to say?

  
           “Sir,” Rhodey starts when JARVIS’ voice comes over the speakers, “all traces of photos and videos are stored in a secure file in my system. Would you like me to delete them?”

  
           “Yeah, I never want to see of hear about those-”

  
           “Wait,” Tony suddenly interjected. “Not yet.”

           It took him a moment to realise that it was Tony who spoke. But his surprise soon turns sour when he realises that Tony wants to keep the… unpleasant memories...

  
          “What d’you mean? Don’t you want them gone?” He waits for a response that doesn’t come.

 

          “Tony?”

 

Tony

          Of course he wants them gone. Screw that, he can care less if his existence stops altogether. But life just doesn't work that way. He can't just delete the things he never wanted to happen - that’d be like pretending it was a bad dream. And that, that, would drive him insane.

           That makes sense, right? If JARVIS makes it look like nothing ever happened, then how would he validate what's real and what isn’t? The nightmares?

           Where will the reason for Tony’s spiraling go? Who would the blame go to? His torment, the pain, torture, humiliation, defilement, will all only exist in his mind. Somehow it feels right if he could at least share that misery - or at least have the choice to.  
  
           Knowing that what had happened to him was real brought a weird sense of peace. Because there are times when he feels light. Not as in light from the sun or anything like that, but light as in he feels like he’s floating. Drifting away from himself, disconnecting. So, if he has something to bring him back, to verify that he’s indeed awake, that he’s not crazy, then maybe he can move on.

           “Rhodey, please. If I explain it, I’ll just sound insane,” Tony sinks further into the bed, all of his thinking bringing him to exhaustion. “Please don’t get rid of them, I still need them...promise me...I’ll explain when I need to.”  
          Rhodey’s silent for a few seconds and Tony starts to panic, thinking he won’t listen to his pleas and delete the files regardless.  
          “I promise,” Rhodey finally responds.  
It was quiet and Tony had to strain to hear it. He feels a small smile of gratitude lift the corners of his mouth before he drifts to sleep.

  
-

          When Tony wakes up, he feels strange. There’s this emptiness that’s never felt so raw, so cold. It carves out a hole bigger than his arc reactor. He should be happy that Daniel is gone. So, why does he feel incomplete and lost? Is it because he was there when everyone wasn't? But the team found out what was really going on and now they care about him. Maybe the Avengers will treat him nice now…

          That is, until he's fixed and they don't feel obligated to help anymore. Hell, this could just be heroes doing their jobs for crying out loud. And by the time the jobs over, they’ll move on and go back to ignoring him and making him feel like trash. Not that he doesn’t already feel like a waste.  
  
          He walks to his bathroom and he sees himself for the first, and God he’s a disgusting sight. To anyone else he may look like his normal self, maybe just more tired than usual, but to him he can’t stand the image. The way his eyes look dull and how the corners of his mouth are torn and chapped from his constant begging and screaming. He peers closer to the glass, taking in every detail and storing it under the things he hates compartment of his brain.  
  
         Tony feels a sharp pinch on his palm and jumps back from the mirror. He gazes down at the source of the pain and sees a small crescent of blood. He’s accidentally dug his nail into his hand...he hurt himself. He stabbed himself with his fucking fingernail!  
  
          He backs further away from the mirror as if it will help him get away from that monster he doesn’t recognize anymore. The beast who’s wearing his skin. No. No, no, no it isn’t something he doesn’t recognize, it isn’t something foreign. It’s him.

                   It’s him.

  
It’s _him_.

  
A monster.

  
      Falling apart.

  
                                          Falling.

  
                            Stumbling.

 

         He starts to shake, the fear striking him, consuming him in an all encompassing chill. He likes the pain. He...likes it. That’s not normal. That can’t be okay- he can’t be okay. Bruce. He needs Bruce. No, he can’t go to him looking like this. He needs them to at least respect him still, give them a reason to think he can still take care of himself.  
  
          After a long shower and a fresh pair of clothes, Tony feels put together enough to face the others. With a mental pep talk, he heads to the elevator and down to the shared lab he has with Bruce.

-

          “Bruce?” Tony asks through the heavy silence of the lab.  
Bruce drops his empty test tube and quickly turns around.

  
          “Oh! Tony.” Bruce smiles gently and rests a hand over his heart. “You really got me there. We need to have a bell on that elevator because that’s the third time someone’s snuck up on me.”

  
          “Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Tony says, looking at the broken glass. “Here, let me get a broom.” He needs to make amends for startling Bruce like that. What if there was a dangerous chemical and it got all over the poor doctor.

  
          “Thanks, Tony.” Bruce steps aside and lets Tony sweep up the little shards. “Glad to see you up and walking. You had us worried last night.”

  
          Tony stops sweeping for a mere second before resuming. He’s only misinterpreting it, there’s no way they were truly worried about him. However, he doesn’t say anything and lets Bruce continue.

  
          “But I’m relieved you’re talking again. So, what brings you down here?” He asks.

  
          “Um...” Right, Tony hasn’t been in the lab for at least a little over a month. He sweeps the shards in the dustpan and tosses them in the trash, then setting down the broom against a wall. “I wanted to tell you something, actually.”

  
          “Yeah?” Bruce sets his clipboard down and gives Tony his full attention.

  
          “I-if that’s okay.”

  
          “Of course!” Bruce says while nodding his head.

  
          “Alright…” He takes a deep breath and looks anywhere that isn’t Bruce. “So when I woke up this morning, I went to the bathroom and saw myself in the mirror. Well...I felt...something and I realized I-” Why won’t the words just come out? It literally feels like the rest of his sentence is stuck in his throat. It hurts the more he tries to speak. This is important God dammit!

  
          “This morning I thought about-” Good, okay say what your screwed up mind was telling you to do. Don’t let your own weakness drag you down another rabbit hole. “-making a change,” Tony finishes.

          It’s a straight up lie and he can feel acid in the back of his throat. Deep down he secretly knows why he can’t tell Bruce the truth, why he can’t tell anyone. Because he craves the pinch followed by the burn as his skin rips and bleeds. As the salt and dirt burn at the small incision his fingernail made. Well he can’t just stop there. Why not use something else to punish himself? No that won't work, Bruce had already taken all the sharp object out of his room. Perhaps if he wasn’t so weak in front of them Bruce wouldn’t have to lose trust in him. Which is exactly why Tony can’t tell him about this morning. If the team really knew about how he thinks, they’d most likely kick him out of the Avengers and then he’d really be pathetic at that point.  
  
          There, his decision is made. He’ll deal with this on his own. Isn’t that what you said about me? A low voice whispers in his ear. He brings a hand up to rub the sound away, but it persists. If you couldn’t take down me, how are you going to defeat your own mind? Tony’s eyes widen when he realizes it’s Daniel’s voice. He hasn’t left.  
  
          “Well that’s good, Tony!” Bruce sounds happy and claps Tony on the shoulder, who flinches. “Uh, wanna go up and get some breakfast? I think Steve said it’d be ready by now. C’mon.”  
  
          Tony nods and follows Bruce up the elevator. His heart thudding out of his chest, and he swears that if he stares hard enough he can see it pushing out his reactor. The doors open and he can feel his skin begin to heat. Everyone’s here, looking anxious and tired. Is that because of him? Of course they are. Daniel’s voice slithers through his mind. I mean I wouldn't be able to sleep either if I knew someone as unstable as you lived in the same vicinity. He shakes the thought away and follows Bruce, trying to calm down before any of them notice.

          It’s not like breakfast is terrible, and he means nothing against Steve, but he has absolutely zero appetite for the copious amount of food piled on his plate. If he had any say in it, he’d opt for a single black coffee- actually, make that the entire pot - and maybe a piece of toast.

  
          And did give a valiant effort. But, when he placed on a small amount of eggs and didn’t even bother looking towards the pancakes direction, Clint told him how he could tell Tony has lost weight and was pretty vocal about too. All the Avengers turn towards the pair, Thor voicing his agreement and Natasha fixing him with a stern look. So, now Tony has to force himself to eat at least half the plate; which honestly can't be a normal human portion. Sitting here, though, is making his palms itch and he begins to crave that sharp pinch and dull ache.

          “Tones,” A distance voice calls to him, but he can’t stop the disconnect. He can’t rip his mind away from the need. “Tony, stop it!”  
  
          Startled, Tony drops his fork onto the table and listens to the clattering fill the silence. He looks to the utensil and he wonders how it got so bent up.  
  
          “Are you okay?” That voice he’s been hearing is Rhodey’s.  
  
          It’s a simple question with a simple answer: yes or no. He can even tell them all what he was just thinking, how sometimes he get unfocused and everything around him turns fuzzy and doubled.

          “Yes,” Tony answers. It isn’t a lie. Well, not entirely. He is okay, he’s okay with not telling them the truth. He’s okay with not being okay. “I’m okay. I was just thinking.” He even offers them a reassuring smile.  
  
          This particular movement feels odd, difficult even. Since when did smiling become so hard? What’s worse is the team buying into it.

          They bought into his entire act. All through breakfast, he didn’t dare let his tongue slip or mask fall.

          In a way, the old Tony is back. The one who hid all his troubles until they festered and boiled deep within. And that’s who they want him to be. So, that’s who he is now.

-

         1... _In_.

          Fully clothed and sitting in his empty bathtub, Tony stares at the crescent marks on his wrist from last night. He runs a finger over the pink welts, feeling the small bumps as he travels down his forearm and towards his palm.

          2... _Out_.

          Tony picks up a razor he stole from Steve’s room and touches his arm gently with it.

          3... _In_.

          He draws a quick line and analyzes his work. It’s terrifying, even if he barely made a scratch. If he’d have cut any lighter, the razor would have been hovering.

          4... _Out_.

          “That wasn’t so bad,” Tony tells himself. Let’s try to go deeper this time, he decides.

          5...In.

  
          He brings the razer next to the shallow cut he just made and aligns his instrument.

          6... _Out_.  
  
          This time it pinches and burns as he drags the razor horizontally. There’s blood, forming into small beads and collecting into a larger pool. He should try deeper.

          7... _In_.

          It snags the moment he pierces flesh. The sharp jolt of pain sends a wripple up his left arm and straight through his entire body. He shudders and pulls the razor out almost immediately.  
“Fuck,” Tony mutters in a quick exhale of heated breath.

          8... _Out_.

          He’s worried at first, the pain making what he’s doing all the more real, but then the numbing sets in and he’s never felt so relaxed. Tony smiles at the blood oozing out of the unfinished cut. He appreciates this pain, he loves how all he thinks about is the sting and not what the last few months have done to him. He doesn’t see Daniel’s face in the back of him mind when he sees these three little cuts. That’s because Tony did this to himself, not Daniel. Tony finally has control. He's winning. All by himself.

          9... _In_.

          And this control is easy. He slides the razor deeply, right next to his unfinished one.

          10... _Out_.

          It’s as easy as breathing.

          He finishes the deep breathing exercise Bruce told him to do. Tony has to admit, he does feel better but he doesn’t know if it was the breathing technique or if it was the razors. Possibly a combination of the two. Either way, he feels better than he did this morning. He sinks into the feeling, the sweet mix of pain and senselessness. Feeling and numbing. His head shoots up from its relaxed position and he stares wide at the other end of the tub.

          He hasn’t craved a drink. Not once. Holy shit, he hasn’t even thought about drinking. Tony gasps out a single laugh, a mere chuckle. Daniel actually changed him more than he wants to believe. More breathy laughter tumbles off his lips and he clenches the razor in a tight fist. Daniel has fixed his alcohol problem. The team would be so proud. His laughter morphs into a mixture of small gasps and coughing as he begins to sob.

          Daniel is still there, he’s a part of Tony. As one thing worse, the other gets better. That’s the way it’s always been. His life must be below the bottom of misery if he no longer even thinks about drinking. He doesn’t remember when it began, but he’s kicking against the porcelain tub and the tears won’t stop falling.  
  
          Tony brings his hands to wipe the tears away but feels a pinch and comes away with blood all over his hands. He drops the razor and upon further inspection, he sees that he’s sliced fairly deep across his palm.

          “Tony!” Someone yells his name and grabs him under his arms. He’s apologizing but he doesn’t know what for.

 

Clint

  
  
         “Tony!” Clint stumbles back and hits his back against the door. There’s blood. Not a lot, but enough to be concerned.  
He snaps out of his daze and rushes to the tub. He grabs under Tony’s arms and pulls him out of the tub. Tony may still be heavy to drag across the room, but he’s obviously lost weight. Clint dumps him next to the foot of the bed and squats in front of his friend.  
  
          “Tony, what the hell happened?” He waits for Tony to respond, but the man stares ahead, breathing heavily. “Please say something. _Anything_...Fine.”

          Clint just came up to see if Tony wanted to play a few video games with him, he seemed so much better at breakfast. He thought that maybe Tony was coping, was overcoming his trauma. The team made it clear that he could talk to them whenever he needed it. That they’d be there for him. What the fuck is this? Does he not need them now? Clint’s furious, and he knows he shouldn’t be angry at Tony, but he can’t help it. He’s made it apparent that he’s here for Tony, that he will do anything for the guy, and he throws it right out the window like his words meant nothing.

          He tells JARVIS to update the others about Tony’s state. He feels useless, angry, guilty, and like a failure.

          “Tony...please let me help you.”

          Tony exhales.

          11… _Out_.

It’s as easy as breathing.

 


End file.
